garagesesh

[garagesesh]

a forgotten sweater ; theon greyjoy (m).

art by @shebsart!

pairing ; modern!theon greyjoy x reader (afab / no pronouns mentioned)

synopsis ; in which you go to fetch the sweater you had forgotten last time you and theon fucked. and this time, you most definitely weren't going to fuck him again.

words ; 1.6k

themes ; literally just smut LMFAO, modern au, college au, basically fwb au but reader doesn't want to admit it

warnings / includes ; unprotected piv sex, creampie, foul language, theon wears batman boxers, poor robb must be traumatized, physical descriptions for theon follow book canon, not the show!

There was just something about him. Something that kept you coming back for more each and every time, even though you always swore you would never touch him again. Theon was not your type, not in the slightest… but, God, he was mind-numbingly good in bed. 

“We’re not sleeping together,” you had assured him when you stopped by his dorm to pick up a sweater you’d forgotten from the last time the two of you tangled together. His dormmate, Robb, had overheard your blunt words from the kitchen, and flushed a bright shade of crimson before quietly excusing himself to his own bedroom.

Theon handed you your sweater and shrugged in a manner he hoped came off as I don’t care. “Fine.”

“Thanks,” you said, clutching your sweater to your chest. “I hope we can still be friends—” Not that you were ever really close friends to begin with—Robb's girlfriend had been the one to introduce the two of you to each other. You were more distant acquaintances than anything. That also just so happened to occasionally have sex.

“With benefits?” he asked, seeming to perk up at the thought. All efforts of nonchalance were thrown to the wind. 

“If benefits mean someone to accompany you to a fast food restaurant or pick you up when you’re drunk, I can do that. Sexual benefits, though…” you trailed off, shaking your head with a grimace. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Theon stepped closer to you. “But why?” he just about whined. “I want you. I want you again, baby. The sex was good for you, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, but—”

“I made you cum, didn’t I? More than once, if I can remember correctly.”

“Theon—”

His hand jutted out as he began to list off, “Once with my tongue, another on my fingers, and who knows how many on my co—”

“Theon!” you exclaimed, jerking forward to slam a hand over his mouth, worried Robb was still around to overhear such filth. “God, you can’t… I don’t…” 

Whatever you wanted to say, you couldn’t recall your own thoughts anymore, because Theon was staring at you with such burning want. His eyes were hooded and his gaze so lustful you could just about feel your resolve crumbling that very second. His skin was so warm under your hands…

“I’m not sleeping with you again,” you whispered, more to convince yourself than him.

“Fine,” he replied, muffled from behind your palm. 

Five minutes later, the two of you had stumbled into his room and you had hastily shed your clothes. Before you knew it, you were situated on top of him with his dick already sliding inside of you. 

Theon let out a loud moan—a choked, hissy sort of sound—and his forehead fell forward so that it rested just between your breasts as your warm walls clenched tightly around his shaft. Prior to you sinking down on him, he'd been so hard he was aching, all aroused throbs and angry red tips and drips of precum.

He looked up at you with dark eyes, glossy with lust and deliberately nipped at one of your tits. Flashes of his teeth and tongue laving over your skin made you close your eyes and hum out a broken sound. There was no movement on your end, not yet, but his hands moved further downwards, from resting on your hips to digging the pads of his fingers into the flesh of your ass.

Then, without warning, Theon jerked you up enough just so his tip could stay inside you, and slammed back inside just as quickly. A yelp echoed across the room, and your hands scrambled up to clutch and Theon's hair. You tugged at the dark strands, just the way you knew he liked, which earned you a string of moans as he began bouncing you on his cock. The lewd, squelching noises that ricocheted off of each desperate thrust made your cheeks burn fiery hot.

“Ah—don't clench around me so hard,” Theon warned breathlessly, brows knitted. “I'll cum too quick, baby, you feel too—haaah—you feel too good.”

“Fuck me, Theon, please,” you said, rolling your hips forward against his. “Please, please, please…”

Your litany of pleas faded into a low moan as Theon began drilling his cock into you, eyes rolling into the back of his head. 

“You’re so wet, holy shi—it.” His voice broke in his fervor. “Feels so good baby, I could die like this.”

“Please don’t,” you said against his hair. “Rub my clit before you do.”

“Fuck, that’s so fucking hot,” he whined, one of his hands letting go of your ass to slither over your hip and rub sloppy, wet shapes over your sensitive clit. His touch made you jump closer to him, unsure to flinch towards or away from the searing pleasure. 

Theon shifted his angle so that he could pound into you impossibly deeper. You felt him hit just the right spot inside you, sending you into a bucking, scratching frenzy. The delicious pain of your nails going down his back seemed only to spur him on.

“Oh, fuck—Theon, wait—I’m going to—” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before you were gushing around him, your cunt spasming tightly around his throbbing cock, your toes curling against his bed sheets soiled. 

“Yeah, fucking cum on this dick. Fuck, you feel so good. Ten minutes ago you were telling me you didn’t want me—now look at you, baby,” he crooned. He was still drilling into you despite your mumbles of it being too much. Theon was no gentleman—but he knew you liked it that way.  “I’m not stopping. Fuck—yeah, baby, you’ll take it for me, won’t you? You’ll take it all, yes.”

He was practically snarling at that point. His teeth were sinking into your shoulder and all you could do was let him fuck you and bite you and grip at you. The pleasure never ebbed away, not with his fingers still toying with your clit. 

“I need you again,” he muttered, licking a hot, wet stripe up your neck. You squirmed in his grasp, moaning out a complaint that fell against deaf ears. “This can’t be the last time, baby, no. Pussy feels too fucking good, oh my God. Tell me this won’t be the last.”

There was no pause to his thrusts, but Theon did go silent for a minute, gnashing his teeth together as he awaited your response. When there came none, he swatted at your ass and you choked on a gasp.

“It won’t be the last, fuck—!” you bit out, slamming your hips down in tandem with his. You could already feel your second orgasm begin to creep up on you.

He shifted the angle once more and buried his cock fast and deep into your sopping cunt as if his life depended on it. The noises were squelching and lewd, you could feel the tips of your ears burning. 

“You close?” he asked.

“Mhm.” You nodded vehemently. “Don’t stop.”

And he didn’t, not for what felt like hours and hours, when realistically it was only a few minutes. Theon groaned in a broken, breathless rhythm, mumbling that he was going to cum. His fingers worked faster at your clit, and that was when you broke. You shuddered around him, clenching like a damn vice. He was loud when he came, so loud that you knew for certain Robb could probably hear the two of you, and you shoved his head down against your shoulder so that his moans were muffled into your skin. You could feel his hot spend inside of you, already dripping and leaking into the mixture of your arousal creaming between your thighs. 

“Fuck,” Theon said as he eased himself out of you. He couldn’t help but slap his cock against your sensitive clit, sharply laughing when you jerked away from the touch and glared at him.

You stood up and began to collect your scattered articles of clothing on wobbly legs, chest still rising and falling rapidly. You could feel his cum dribble down quicker now that you were standing. 

The impish grin Theon was wearing fell away when you said, “This is not happening again.”

He looked ready to throw himself at the ground and grovel for your pussy again. For some sick reason, the thought excited you. It didn’t sit well with you that you were just as perverted as he was. 

“What can I say to get you to change your mind?” He was hopping on one leg towards you as he pulled on a pair of boxers. Batman-patterned boxers, you noted with amusement. You hadn’t even noticed that when he was undressing earlier. God, he was such a fucking loser.

You spared him a genuine smile, before leaning forward to kiss his lower cheek, which was scratchy with dark stubble. In all of the times the two of you have fucked, which was upwards of a dozen times now, the two of you had kissed plenty of times—but never before or after. Theon blinked at you with big, dopey eyes. 

“Bye, Theon,” you said, choosing not to give him an answer to his question.

He watched in silence as you slipped on your shirt, and high-tail out of his room. He scratched the back of his neck and let out a big sigh—then spotted the forgotten sweater you had carelessly thrown onto his messy desk.

A lopsided smile tugged at his lips. Yeah, this was definitely happening again.

[garagesesh]

HOTD headcanons

I can hear the bells // p. 2 & p. 1

gif source

⤷ pairing(s): aemond targaryen x reader, s*r criston cole x reader, jacaerys velaryon x reader

⤷ warning(s): unplanned pregnancy, angst, criston cole

⤷ a/n: idk criston cole is fun to write and it helps that he’s pretty, this isn’t my favorite work and I’m sure I’ll rewrite someday but I wanted to get it out now before my vacay

masterlist

―✧˖° ♛ °˖✧―

★ aemond targaryen

You are not a highborn lady or any type of Targaryen or Velaryon Princess, you met Aemond in the bowels of Flea Bottom at a tavern by chance, not knowing who he was. The two of you connected, talking until dawn about adventure and the history of Valyria

Aemond was charmed by your ignorance of his standing in society, reveling in the secret but simple life affair

It wasn’t two months later that you figured it out. A gold cloak addresses him by his title out in the streets in a tavern. You’re not thrilled by this revelation and in fact swear to never see him again but he’s persistent, determined to keep you

It doesn’t take long for the two of you to resume your relationship and suddenly-

You’re pregnant a year into your affair with the one-eyed prince, he was overjoyed with the news but you were scared he was going to abandon you like his elder brother had done time and time again

You call him mad and laugh, thinking it's some sort of cruel jest when he confesses his intent to marry you and make you royalty. He will not raise a bastard, he says as you kick him out of your small one room

It takes a month before you finally accept his proposal, it took sleepless nights and worried days before finally talking yourself into his idea as a good one

There are no flowers except the ones he brought you at dawn on your wedding day, it is a warm sunny morning when you both enter the sept of Baelor, a skeptical high septon, and his sworn guard

It is rushed but Aemond is determined and ready as he swears his vows and barely waits for you to finish your own before kissing you hard

You have never met a dragon before when Aemond takes you before Vhagar and tells you that you’ll be riding south for a fortnight, there is no fear that runs in your veins but excitement

You spend a sennight in Dorne, hidden away from the world, unbeknownst to the wrath awaiting you and Aemond in the Red Keep

Alicent is cold and unwilling to understand the situation. It is not easy or happy meeting for you.

★ criston cole

After the dance of dragons, criston cole is given a choice. To be stripped of his white cloak die within the cells of the Red Keep or to be stripped of his white cloak, return to Dorne and live a quiet life out of the realms politics. Cole chooses the latter, of course. It’s far more kindly than what he assumed would be his fate.

Dorne is not what he remembers it being, it’s dry and vast with little in it’s lands. Cole doesn’t consider this desert his home.

His father was not proud of him, but he needs to still secure the house lineage and secures a marriage pact

As the youngest daughter of house Dayne, you’re not thrilled at the prospect of marrying the fool (one of many nicknames they’ve aptly named Criston in Dorne). You have only heard of the most vile and selfish stories about your now betrothed.

When you first meet Criston Cole, you’re shocked. He’s attractive, his hair has grown out to his shoulders and there’s a scar running down his neck but the weeks leading up to your meeting you had envisioned all sorts of monstrosities, considering you and the realm had decided he was a cruel inept monster

He is quiet and replies with a soft voice, you’re puzzled how the ex-Lord Commander and Hand of the King for the traitor king is gentle. However it is hard to see past what he has done to tear the realm apart

When your wedding day comes around, he replaces your cloak with a rough cloth with colourless dots adorning the back. House Cole is not wealthy and the dowry wasn’t large.

He kisses you well not really. His rough hands squeezes your own gently and barely brushing his lips to your cheek

There is no feast, just a family meal that is supplied well with meat and wine in the gardens well into the evening

The bedding is just like his kiss, hardly anything to recount to your sisters or companions. It isn’t romantic and your sure he doesn’t even finish. You hope that this isn’t what it’ll always be

★ jace velaryon

Growing up alongside your future husband isn’t the norm, but you are glad for it. As many ladies are stuck with brutes and old men for husbands

Jace has matured into a handsome man that you can’t bare to look at without blushing. With every look he gives you, you can’t help but turn your head with cheeks red

But despite your embarrassment, you are both more than excited to finally be married

You opt for a traditional Valyrian wedding, the same as Rhaenyra and Daemon had done. There was no fancy ceremony with cloaks of golden threads, just Jace and you

Sleep did not come the night before, as the excitement and giddiness ran through you like shots of lightning. You couldn’t even feel the exhaustion in your muscles as you readied yourself in the robes and headpiece

Jace could not find sleep himself, as he was too excited as well at the prospect of finally calling you his

Jace’s eyes watered while waiting for you, he choked on his Valyrian as you laughed at his sweet mistake

The kiss wasn’t needy or greedy, but it wasn’t the cordial kiss of the Lords & Ladies of the Seven would display. It was tender and loving and gentle.

The feast was celebrated through the night and full of laughter. When it came to the bedding ceremony, you and Jace instead fell asleep quite quickly in your now shared bed

However the next evening…

[garagesesh]

HOTD Headcanons

i can hear the bells // p.1 & p.2

gif source

⤷ pairing(s): aegon ii targaryen x reader & cregan stark x reader ⤷ warning(s): mentions of sex, alcohol, general rudeness ⤷ a/n: please forgive me for Aegon 😖 part two with jace and aemond will be up soon…hopefully i acquired a hand injury today soooo… whoops lol

―✧˖° ♛ °˖✧―

★ cregan stark

The betrothal came with Jace after his security of the north and the Stark’s oath. You were to fly in a fortnight to Winterfell and become Lady Stark. You find yourself in tears at night but Baela spends all night with you, making you feel better about your new northern life.

You struggle but understand that you will be alone at your binding to Lord Stark. Your family is at the precipice of war and they need the alliance

The North is cold and sparse but it’s expansive desolation is half the charm. The cold will get taking used to

There is no reception and few words at your arrival other than Lord Stark, Sara Snow, and a half dozen of his men. It’s cordial and quick, as there is war to attend to

On the morning of, Cregan’s half-sister is warm and lovely, braiding your hair in the Targaryen way but dressing you in the Stark. It is foreign but quickly becoming familiar

As you walk towards the weirwood under the swirling, quiet snow, you mourn the absence of your mother and siblings. Your father, who has long since perished within the scarred halls of Harrenhal and Luke whose death still makes you shed tears.

Cregan is handsome, ruggedly so. He’s not the man you envisioned yourself with but he will more than do. You like his frost bitten cheeks and his long brown hair. You like the furs that surround his body that make him seem warm and inviting. He’s also almost a head taller than you, you can’t help the blush that creeps up your cheeks. You hope he chalks it up to the cold.

Cregan did not imagine marrying a Targaryen princess. But he can hardly look at you, for you are far more beautiful than he had imagined

He surprises you with a feast, not with any flowers or the grandeur of the weddings you attended in childhood but there is music, food, and people dancing. You learn quickly that the Northerner's like to have fun and enjoy a good party.

Your and Cregan’s first dance is nothing short of awkward but it’s full of laughter as he spins you around and as you step on his toes. His large hands encases your own as he guides you through the dance floor.

You forget about what’s brewing in the south and relish in the feast, while simultaneously falling in love with your husband

The bedding ceremony comes around and Cregan’s timid at first. He’s unwilling to hurt you. Sweet and kind, Cregan is not rough for now

You think forever could be lovely with him

★ aegon ii targaryen

The two of you have been betrothed since your fifth name day and doomed from the beginning

It isn’t love at first sight, not at all. In fact, he gives you the look of disgust when you first meet at his sixteenth name day tourney. Aegon makes it a point to make fun of your clothing and insults your intellect, of which he is lacking you muse.

There’s not many more meetings between the two of you before the queen suggests you acquire a room at the keep. You’re not thrilled but you cannot refuse.

It’s not until a month has passed since your arrival to the Red Keep that he decides to acknowledge your presence. There are moments in the months leading up to your union that he’s almost sweet, almost affectionate with you. In the ways that he touches your wrist, brings you things you might enjoy, or spends most of his time with you

Over time you start to believe that maybe there is love there. That you and Aegon can come to be companions and lovers. At least you can say that you are falling in love with him

On your wedding day, he takes the white and silver cloak adorned with twin Direwolves and crimson red Weirwood leaves and practically throws it to the side.

His kiss is sloppy, uncouth, and embarrassing. You don’t reciprocate instead choosing to wait out the shameless display.

Aegon gets drunk at the reception.

Far into his bottle of wine, he calls you the wolf whore. The northern barbarian, he whispers in your ear. That’s when you decide you have had enough

You’re sure that if your brother was able to join the festivities away from the castle, he would have killed Aegon

You go to bed alone on your wedding night, tears stain your sheets and serious thoughts of running away plague your mind

It’s almost dawn when there’s a knock at the door and the creak of it’s hinges stirring you from slumber, he’s quiet and tentative something you hadn’t experienced with Aegon. He crawls into the bed, but doesn’t approach your form.

He’s nervous Aegon confesses, stranger to the unknown feeling of love and respect from anyone. That there has been no teaching of what love could be or is. He admits that he could see himself learning with you

[garagesesh]

I still mourn that lauda fic u never finished

Honestly, I’ve been thinking about resurrecting it

[garagesesh]

the only time I feel I might get better // obi wan kenobi

★ pairing(s): obi-wan kenobi x reader ★ summary: it was everything you wanted…right? ★ warnings: angst & yearning ★ a/n: short and sweet kind of a sequel to when we are together. They’re so awkward lmfao

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

It was hot.

Then again it was always hot on Tatooine.

But today it was different.

The heat had gone above what the outdated thermometer in the hut could read and the old cooling system barely helped. The scorched earth was physically too hot to touch with even clothed feet and the visible mirage of heat distorted the landscape.

You were on the floor, stripped to your small clothes with a wet cloth covering your face. “We need to get a new system.”

“Agreed.” Shirtless and in his own small clothes, Obi-Wan was on the floor next to you.

“In the four years we’ve been on this rock. I don’t think the heat has ever been this bad.” You laughed half-heartedly.

It takes a moment for Obi-Wan to respond. “Four years?”

“Time flies.” You rolled your head to the side, taking off the cloth to grimace at him. He goes silent, the only sound is the rattling of the cooling unit on the precipice of exploding or hopefully chugging on and the labored breath between you both.

“Thank you.” He finally spoke.

“For what?” Your brow furrowed.

“Doing this with me.”

He rolled over on his side, long auburn hair falling around his tanned face. Beard still in tact but speckled with stray grays and whites. Head now propped up by his elbow. He glistened with sweat. “Thank you for being here with me.”

His eyelashes were a golden red, long, and thick. He had freckles on the bridge of his nose flushing out to dot his cheeks. A brilliant open ocean that shone under the rays of his eyelashes.

Your chest stopped moving. There’s a hitch in the back of your throat. An ache in between your thighs.

His lips were dry, in need of a salve.

You’re sure he thinks the same of yours.

He’s slow with his movements, making agonizingly steady work with your lips.

His breath was hot, scalding almost when he pulled away. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” You stood up from the floor, removing yourself from his bodily cage.

Obi-wan rolled onto his back, palms digging into his eye sockets quietly berating himself for what he just done. He thought that this is what you wanted, been yearning for. Certainly that’s what he has been feeling.

The fresher door clicked shut behind you.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

read pt. 1 “when we are together”?

[garagesesh]

thunder // anakin skywalker

★ pairing(s): anakin skywalker x (f!)reader ★ summary: you and anakin had a falling out and now you’re forced to reconcile after a mission gone wrong. ★ warning(s): sexual content! graphic descriptions of wounds! blood! enemies to lovers? ★ a/n: enjoy :) this shit long af sorry lmfao title is from thunder by miss lana

␛ to masterlist

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

When you received the encrypted message this morning by Master Mace Windu, you were confused. Sent in the middle of the night with barely any explanation given other than a time and place to meet. It wasn’t unlike Mace to send abrupt messages at all times of the night, but it was strange to have no details given whatsoever.

You struggled with the message all day, going over and over in your mind what was going on, what could happen. You weren’t exactly the most obedient Jedi in the Order and there was recently an incident on Lothal where you had taken some of your men to quietly gather some intel of the Separatists who held Capital city.

Except it didn’t exactly happen quietly and a full blown incursion had broke out. General Kenobi and his fleet had to step in and evacuate you and your men.

While forever grateful for Obi-Wan saving your skin, you were forever guilty of your incompetence.

“There’s been an emergency.” Was the first thing that slipped out of Mace Windu’s mouth the moment you crossed the threshold into the meeting room.

“What emergency?” Silently relieved that this was not what you believed it to be.

“Master Kenobi has already been debriefed and will arrive later to discuss intimate details of the plan with you.”

“How secret of a mission is this that it’s just me and Obi-Wan? No reinforcements?”

“It’s not just you, Master. We’re waiting on one other.”

“Who?”

It was at that moment the doors slid open revealing Anakin, the third member of the small secret trio of the mission. His blood boiled, his jaw clenched, and his stomach churned at the sight of you standing at the other side of the room, avoiding his gaze.

Why? Why were you here? A million reasons as to why ran through his head and none of them sounded good.

“General Skywalker.” You smiled, trying to ignore the way Anakin’s hands curled into fists. Now you knew why you weren’t privy to who exactly was on the mission.

See, you and Anakin didn’t exactly get along. Once, years ago, but now it wasn’t possible for him at least, to be around you.

“What is she doing here?” Anakin’s voice dripped with annoyance.

Your heart panged at the slight but you swallowed it away instead, smiling at him. “Charming as always, Skywalker.”

“She, General Skywalker,” Windu snapped, pointing to you at the opposite end of the room. “Is a member of the Jedi Order and you are in no position to question on why a fellow Jedi is at any meeting. Do you understand?”

“But-“ Anakin started but was quickly shut down.

“Do you understand, Anakin?” Windu’s tone didn’t allow Anakin to choose no.

“Yes, Master Windu.” He grumbled.

“Good.” He pushed the green button on the dashboard, illuminating the room with the soft blue glow, map of Ajan Kloss. “We have reports of a disturbance in the force on the outer rim moon of Ajan Kloss.”

Windu motioned toward the small blue moon. “We have reason to believe that the Separatists are scouting the moon for a new base to begin expanding their efforts further out in the Outer rim.”

“So what is the plan?” You asked.

“Find the disturbance and hopefully stop the expansion.”

“Simple enough.” You nodded.

The door slid open once more, this time Obi-Wan quietly entered. Chin in his hand, circling the table evaluating every inch of the map.

“Master Kenobi.” You called out to him, smiling.

“General.” He nodded. “I’m happy to see you could help. Anakin and I both appreciate your help and expertise on this matter. Don’t we?”

Anakin grumbled, but nodded anyway.

“Thank you, Master.” You smiled at the older man before you. “I’m happy to help.”

“Good.” He returned your smile and looked over to Anakin a moment, placing a hand on his former Padawan’s shoulder before turning back to you. “We’re both happy to have it.”

Anakin huffed his obvious displeasure, loud enough for you to hear it. He was not happy about the situation and no doubt felt blindsided by Obi-Wan’s lack of keeping him in the know of what was going on. You didn’t care, he was any other Jedi on a mission to you and you weren’t going to let his bad attitude and anticipated harsh comments let you from successfully fulfilling your duties and Obi-Wan seemed to thankfully on the same page.

“I trust you three will do this properly.” Windu’s piercing gaze bore into you.

“Yes, Master.”

“Good, you two may go.”

Anakin followed you out, sighing heavily as the door slid closed.

You swallowed heavily, the pressure of his gaze into the back of your head made you face him. “I don’t want to do this either, Anakin.”

“Good. Glad you agree.” He rolled his eyes. “Don’t screw this one up like you did on Lothal.”

“It wasn’t my fault.”

“Yeah, sure.” Anakin moved closer, his real hand wrapping around your upper arm. His lips brushed against the top of your ear, “Don’t get in my way.”

Anakin pulled back completely, letting you go and beginning down the hall away from you. “See you tomorrow, Y/n.”

Dawn was breaking when you arrived at the docking bay. Anakin was perched on a supply box, laughing at something one of his men had said.

There was a time you would be there with them, making him laugh. You swallowed hard.

“Where’s Obi-Wan?” Bag slung over your shoulder, you approached the men and Anakin.

Rolling his eyes, he jumped off the box. His demeanor completely changed back into seriousness and annoyance at your presence.

“Why?” Anakin hummed as he crossed his arms across his chest.

“Because I have to report to him, Anakin.” You matched his bite.

“He’s on the cruiser.”

You nodded, pushing past him purposely bumping your shoulder hard into his own. Hoping that maybe your bag even hit him as well as you entered in the small jumper ship. Putting your things into a locker before jumping into the cockpit and starting the pre flight procedures.

“I’m flying.” Anakin’s voice entered the cockpit. Of course. Jackass.

“Fine.” You released the pilots controls, not wanting a fight so early in the morning. Instead, you commed to Obi-Wan letting him know of your departure and soon arrival.

You two avoided each other on the cruiser during the standard weeks journey. Waltzing your ways down abandoned corridors and choosing odd meal times.

All of your efforts proved to be in vain when Obi-Wan let you know that Anakin and you were to go solo into the jungle in hopes to use Obi-Wan and his men as a distraction.

“We should head south. Towards the river, there should be small villages along there.” Anakin pointed at the map.

“That’s almost a four day hike,” Sighing as you disagreed with him. “And completely off track.”

“The Separatists will be in those villages, Y/n.” He shook his head, “And whatever Sith scum is on this rock will be there too.”

It began to not rain, pour. Your hair was completely drenched and so was Anakin’s. Thunder rolled in and the fog began to settle.

“If we follow my plan, we won’t end up dead like the men on Lothal.”

That was it.

You had enough of Anakin Skywalker. “Shut up!”

You pushed him to the ground, jumping on top of him and straddling his body.

“What is your problem!?” He choked out. Quickly flipping you over into the dirt, the wind knocked out of your lungs with a huff.

“Get off me!” You wanted to spit in his face. You began to claw at his face, but he quickly grabbed your wrists and grounded them in the mud.

Thunder clapped above. You pounded at his chest, “Get off me!”

Another boom from the sky had him off you. “We need to make shelter!”

You reached for the map in your belt. Feeling for the tech, you found none but scraps. The map was completely destroyed. You reached for the com, it was of the same fate. There was no hope of trying to salvage the tech in your hand.

“You fucked us over!” Anakin shouted over the thunder and rain.

“Shut up!”

“You’re the one who got us in this situation. If only you hadn’t blown up at me, we wouldn’t be in this mess!”

“I’m the one who got us here?” You scoffed. “Need I remind you that this was your idea?”

“My idea?” He pointed a finger at his face as his eyes narrowed at you. “You suggested that we divert completely!”

“And you suggested that we go this route! Plus-“

“Doesn’t make it my idea!”

“You didn’t let me finish!”

“And I won’t!”

“I have never met someone so infuriating, so narcissistic, and so downright arrogant as you in my entire life!”

“I’m infuriating?” He snapped back with venom. “Have you ever met yourself?”

“You’re so-“ You stopped short.

“So what?” It was only then that you realized that the chipped deep blue armor that wrapped around his shoulders were mere inches from your chin. His chest was mere centimeters away from your own and that he towered over you as his deep blue eyes glowered.

“Just forget it.” You sighed, stepping back, trying to escape his

“No, go on, I’d love to hear it.”

“No, Anakin.”

“I don’t even know how I used to put up with you!”

The brush moved above you. “What was that?”

“What was what?”

The dark ripple of the force electrified your nerves once more. “There, did you feel it?”

“Stop it, nothing’s there. Let’s keep going.”

“Anakin,” His name stopped him dead in his tracks, you hadn’t used it in years. “There’s something following us. I can feel it.”

“It’s just the storm.”

“Anakin.” You looked at him with eyes wide.

“Hello, Jedi.” Ventress hissed from above. Her lightsabers hissed as the sith ignited the two as she towered over you.

“I’m so glad you could make it.” Her lips twisted into a sadistic grin that made you twinge.

Anakin ignited his blue to your green.

Ventress cackled, raising her double lights over her head to make a slash at the both of you as she dropped to the jungle floor. A master in her own right with dueling two at the same time.

Anakin lunged forward first, his blue clashing with red. Purple illuminating their faces, you saw this as your chance to enter the fray. Your green went for her side, trying for a swipe at her rib cage. Ventress easily blocked your move.

You and Anakin fought hard as you slowly made progress pushing her farther and farther into the jungle floor. At one point, the green blade of your saber made contact with her leg and Anakin’s sliced up her arm.

You were making good progress and might even capture the with.

That’s until you came upon the ravine.

Ventress’s leg came up, her foot square in the chest of Anakin’s plate of armor and pushed hard.

Anakin fell.

He tumbled over the top of the ravine and into the pit of darkness, his frame shadowed by the rain and fog that enveloped the depth below.

“Anakin!” Your lungs screamed for air, your grip slipped, allowing for Ventress to slice open your shoulder, searing your robes and the skin underneath. You fell to your knees, completely at the mercy of the Sith.

“Oops?” Ventress laughed. “Looks like Skywalker won’t be making it home.”

Your head hung in defeat. Wet hair falling in a curtain around you, shielding your shame. You failed. You failed yourself. You failed Anakin. The only thing that awaited you was death that came in the form of her twin blades crossed over at your neck.

But the blow never came. The hum of her lightsabers ceased and the only thing left was the rain, thunder, and your heavy breaths. Then you descended into the pit, screaming in agony as debris fell onto your wound.

The ravine was just as clear as it was from above. Holding onto the seared wound in your shoulder, your search became frantic noticing the stream was shades of blood. “Anakin!”

His body was unnaturally situated in the shallow water. His eyes were closed as you knelt in front of him.

“Anakin.” You whispered above his unmoving form.

“Anakin! Please!” He was alive you could feel that but his life force was fading. You scanned his body, looking for the wounds that ran the river red. Then you saw his leg.

His leg was mangled, bloody, and almost snapped in half.

It made you nauseous to look at it, but you needed to stop the bleeding or he would die. There was no way this would heal properly without medical attention and weeks worth of time in a bacta tank.

Your frantic hands shed your belt, practically tearing the dark outer robes off your top, leaving only the thin tank top underneath left. The blue fabric of his pants were slick with his blood, dyeing the blue, black. With every second passed, the more his blood poured from his leg.

You couldn’t wrap the wound successfully without straightening it out. The thought of maneuvering the bone back into a straight position was gross and something you had never done before, but you had to get him out of this ravine and get help immediately and with the com broken it wasn’t likely to be found anytime soon.

His unnaturally bent leg made unpleasant noises as you slowly moved it back into a e position, thanking the force he was unconscious to feel the pain. You felt bad for the pain he would feel when he would wake up, if he woke up.

But you couldn’t think like that, no, you would stop the bleeding, find help, and he would be fine. Everything would be fine. You two would go back to Coruscant and the endless fighting would resume.

You traveled for hours with him on your back. Taking only a few moments to eat from a bush or drink from a stream. You tried your best to find the way you had once come. But it was proving difficult with the cloud cover and the haze of pain from your shoulder.

It was nightfall when you found a waterfall with a pool of water. Just behind the curtain of water was a large enough cave that would easily fit the two of you and then some.

You laid Anakin to rest on the floor. Immediately going for water to wash your hands and then his wound. It took hours to delicately clean the break and skin, you didn’t realize you had fallen asleep until you saw the light streaming through the water.

On the first day, Anakin hadn’t awaken. He laid silently on the cave rock floor. You hadn’t left his side, only once every few odd hours to get more water to clean his wound.

You were reluctant to leave him but you need to find food and find something better to bind his leg and maybe find a way to get to Obi-Wan.

On the second day you made a make shift bed for him to lay on made out of palm ferns that you tied on your back for an easier climb.

On the third day, you meditated. Hoping that you could reach out and contact Obi-Wan through the force, but you weren’t lucky enough to have a bond with him.

On the fourth day, a cold front came in. It wasn’t anything like the chills on Coruscant but it was a significant drop in the average temperature for Ajan Kloss.

On the fifth day he woke up.

“Y/n?” You thought that the hallucinations from lack of sleep, food, and proper hydration began when you heard his voice for the first time. But the voice persisted, calling your name again.

“Don��t move.”

“What happened?”

“Ventress.”

“Have you heard from Obi-Wan?”

“Would we still be in this cave if I had?”

“No.”

“Stop moving.”

“Stop telling me what to do.”

“Your leg almost snapped in half.”

“I know. I can feel it.” Anakin winced. “How long have I been out?”

“Five days.”

“How long do you think-?”

“I don’t know.” You unwound the scrap of red fabric that came from his robes. He tried sitting up again but groaned in pain when you poured water from a flagon you had made out of some hollow shell you had found at the edge of the river and onto the wound.

“Kriff!” He jerked his leg which only caused him more pain. “Fuck.”

“Sit still.” You wanted to slap his stupid face. “If you would just stay put, I could finish this faster and then you wouldn’t be in so much pain.”

“And you haven’t gone out and tried to find help?”

“Oh, I’m sorry! I guess I should’ve let you die then!”

“No.” He looked down at your hands, watching as you worked on wrapping his leg with the freshly washed makeshift linens. “I’m sorry for what I said before Ventress.”

“It’s okay.” You brushed it off. It hurt but you weren’t going to stew over it. Silence fell over you again.

“We used to be inseparable.” Anakin uttered one evening when the rain came down. His back was currently propped up against the cave wall, watching you as you cut into some fruit you had found earlier that day. Your hair was drenched, and beads of water rolled down your neck and bare shoulders. Your skin glistened under the shimmer of the waterfall.

“A long time ago.” You huffed. It was annoying to hear him try to bring up the past between you.

“It was only four years ago.”

“Yeah, a long time ago.” You didn’t really want to have this conversation with him.

“We stopped talking.” Yeah no shit.

Sighing heavily, you put down the small shard of stone. You couldn’t quite understand why he was suddenly bringing this up right now. After all, it was he who stopped talking to you, leaving you to wonder for months what you had done wrong. It left questions burning at the tip of your tongue every time you were in close proximity of each other.

“Why?” Why? The gaul of Anakin finally got to you.

But after everything that had happened in the last week, it was as good as time as any to ask the question that had been itching at the back of your mind for. “Was what happened on Corellia that bad?”

“What?”

“Corellia. Plo and Obi-Wan took us to Corellia to help locals from the Pykes. We had tried to help annex them from the spice lords. We got split up and you and I were sent alone and then we had um-“

“Yeah, I remember Corellia.” He stopped you before you could finish the sentence, knowing full well what you were about to say.

“After that,” You continued. “You stopped talking to me. You started to act different around me, like you do now…I just didn’t understand. I still don’t understand.”

Anakin was silent for a long time. His head turned and he watched as the waterfall gushed down. “I remember when we were barely seventeen and you had training with Plo every morning from sunrise until noon but this time he was called away for an emergency on…I think it was Kijimi?”

“Where are you going with this, Anakin?”

“Let me finish.”

“I-“

“Just listen.”

“Fine.”

“Obi-Wan offered to train you himself when Plo was gone. He trained you hard for two weeks and I watched all of it. I sat behind the Uneti tree and watched you guys fight. It was like a sort of dance. I had never seen him and you flow so easy before. It was mesmerizing.”

“Okay? I don’t understand the point of this whole story?”

“Can you just be quiet? I’m trying to explain myself in the best way I can and you’re being rude.”

“That’s thick.”

“Whatever. Look, I just got nervous around you.”

“Nervous? Anakin, I thought we were closer than ever after Corellia and your explanation is that you became nervous?” Your eyebrow arched. Stars, he was dumber than you remember.

“You know what? Forget it.”

“No. I’m sorry, finish.”

He sat there in silence for a moment as he eyed you out of the corner of his eye, watching as you moved to sit next to him; propping your back against the wall, mirroring his position. Clearing his throat, his eyes fell to his hands, “I-I wasn’t freaked out. I was jealous and standing there only days after Corellia watching you two train in such fluidity I realized right then and there.“

The silence was loud as he looked back down at you. His eyes searched yours with a look you hadn’t seen since you were seventeen.

No. He couldn’t. This couldn’t be the reason to why your friendship had fallen apart.

The silence settled again in the cave as you watched him. “Anakin…”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Pity me.” He swallowed “You rejected me.”

“I didn’t reject you.” You weren’t even awake when you had left him laying in bed alone. You had thought it was for the best. You didn’t want Plo or especially Obi-Wan finding the two of you wrapped up in the sheets together. “I didn’t think it wise to stay and you took me leaving as rejection. You were the one who ignored me for months! You are not the victim here, Anakin!”

He fell silent, looking out at the undulating gushing water. It was moments before you spoke again.

“I liked you too. Once.”

“I know.” He smirked. “You were obvious.”

“I know.”

“It was endearing.”

“I didn’t quite grasp the concept of no attachments at ten.”

“I still don’t.”

You shrugged and stared at the raging waterfall, unwilling to meet his gaze.

“Do you…” Anakin’s voice trailed off, lingering in the air, allowing for the pounding water to take over the conversation until he was brave enough to finish it.

“Do I what?”

“Do you hate me?”

“No! Oh my stars, no.”

“So you still like me?”

“No.” You were telling the truth, you missed him sure, but it wasn’t love anymore. “I do not.”

“But you did once.”

“I was ten.”

“Ten, twenty, a hundred. Love just doesn’t die.”

“Wow, you’re a real poet Skywalker. A shame your flowery words of endearment will never be heard upon the ears of lovers.”

“Look, you are smart, funny, strong, and you paid attention to me. I just had misplaced my admiration into childish fantasies that had led me astray until I had found balance again.” He sighed. “And I don’t hate you. You hate me though.”

“I don’t hate you. I’ve never hated you.” That was all it took for Anakin to finally kiss you. Press his own to yours, in a fervor that was everything and nothing you had to said to each other.

His lips were warm.

Chapped.

“Anakin-“ You moaned into his mouth. It was electric, like the wire from all those years ago was plugged back into its socket.

He hummed into your mouth, his fingers were still entangled in your hair. Grasping at the base of your skull, pulling at the tendrils. Your lips moved in perfect sync as he began pulling you towards him, trying to position you on his lap.

“Your leg.”

“I don’t feel it.”

“Anakin.” You bit your lip. It wasn’t right. “We can’t.”

“I might die.”

“Don’t be dramatic.”

“I might never see the light ever again. Might never feel the warmth of another person ever again.”

He pulled you to him again, kissing you with all of the pent up anger, guilt, and want the past four years had built.

His warm hand slipped under your shirt, fingertips caressing the slick, sweaty skin that was a sea of goosebumps from the contact. Skating up your rib cage to find your breast.

Moaning into his mouth, you forgot what it was like to be touch, no caressed by him. It felt so wrong but that’s what must’ve been so good about it.

You retracted from him, pulling your shirt off completely. Baring yourself to him. His lips found your nipple, sucking lightly at the sensitive tip, your head rolled back in pleasure.

You could feel him at you clothed core, your hips rocking against his hard cock.

“Fuck.” His breath was hot against your skin but never relented. “If you keep doing that I’ll cum.”

“Then fuck me.”

His tip was swollen and leaking with pre-cum when you helped him with his pants. You wanted to take him in your mouth but wanted him inside you more.

“Fuck.” He moaned deeply as you sank your wet cunt onto his pulsating erection. You couldn’t help but moan out in pleasure yourself as you felt him bottom out in you.

With careful undulating rolls you moved on top of him.

It was by no means romantic, this clash between you. Needy and primal, it was a release of everything. Every quick slash of the tongue. Every glance and every subliminal touch.

“I know about you and Obi-Wan.” Anakin’s fingers entwined within your hair, tenderly caressing your scalp as he braided small sections with your head laid on his bare chest.

There was no reason to deny what he said. You hummed against his skin.

“Do you love him?” He continued to play with your hair as he quietly whispered. There was no malice, no jealously, no discontent behind his question.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

The next few days continued as they had prior to what happened between you and Anakin. There had been no mentions of you having sex and none of Obi-Wan.

Anakin’s leg wasn’t getting better but it wasn’t getting worse. Which you took as a good sign.

“I’m going to get more food.” You were running out of the little supply you had previously gotten and he needed as much energy and nutrients as possible.

“Okay.”

“Please don’t do anything stupid.”

“Would never dream of it.”

You looked back once more before descending the rock and into the jungle floor. Purple fruit hung from low bushes that proved edible and somewhat sweet. Which was good enough for your empty stomachs.

You plucked a few into your makeshift satchel you had created from scraps of Anakin’s robes. It wouldn’t be enough if you were expecting to be here longer, so you moved deeper into the jungle. Hoping to find a piece of meat of any kind at this point.

You felt it first. A movement in the overgrown brush. Then you saw it.

A figure, no, it was definitely a man moved through the jungle alone. Whacking his way through the brush with looked like a vibroblade, as he tried to navigate the tricky, uneven floor.

“Obi-Wan?” Maybe you were tired, hungry, and downright delirious at this moment but for a fleeting second, the auburn hair was one thing it was the white and tan armor that was unmistakable.

“Obi-Wan!” The fruit dropped from your hands and squashed into the mud below, but you didn’t care. Obi-Wan had stopped his pursuit through the flora and spun around.

“Y/n?” His eyes widened and he dropped the vibroblade to the muddied ground. You sprinted towards the Jedi Master and practically jumped on him, wrapping your arms around his body. The warmth he radiated was comforting and familiar. He was sweaty and smelled a bit but you were sure you were ten times worse.

Obi-Wan’s mouth found yours as he brought your body closer to his in desperation and happiness.

He pulled back from your body but his arms were still wrapped around you. His cerulean eyes searched your face and his hand came to caress your dirty, sweaty cheek. He wasn’t sure you were really real.

“Yes, it’s really me.” You half laughed, half sobbed.

“You’re hurt.” His fingertips gingerly graced the surface of your wrapped shoulder. You had forgotten about your wound.

“I forgot.” You laughed through the tears, looking down at the disgusting unkept wrappings.

“You forgot?” He laughed, shaking his head. “I guess you’re okay then?”

“I’ll live.” You smiled, kissing him once more.

“Where’s Anakin?”

You hesitated, worried at how he would react to the news of Anakin almost dying and his leg needing extensive medical attention.

“Anakin is injured.” His eyebrow raised at the news. “Badly.”

“What happened?”

“Ventress.”

“Where is he?”

“A few clicks from here.” You began moving back towards the waterfall. “I can’t move him. Not by myself. He needs medical attention now or he’ll lose the leg.”

“I’ll com Cody.” Obi-Wan’s brow furrowed as he calmly talked to the Commander, detailing the extent of Anakin’s injuries and of yours.

You led him to the cave, detailing the events of Ventress and everything in between. “I cleaned the wound twice a day. I ran out of cloth so I washed and reused what I had, but it was running water. The bleeding has stopped and has begun to scab over but his leg is damaged badly, Obi-Wan. It’ll be weeks in a bacta tank before he can walk properly again.”

Stepping into the cave with Obi-Wan, Anakin was just as you had left him but now he was smirking at the sight of you two.

“Took you long enough.”

You were evacuated from Ajan Kloss.

The team was a sight for sore eyes. Anakin was brought to the medbay immediately, induced into sleep he floated around the bacta tank with his mangled leg suspended.

With relief, you found your quarters after a quick check up, proper meal, and a long shower.

Wrapped up in a blanket, you were sitting in the window ledge. Watching the stars go by, waiting for the jump to hyper speed.

Reflecting on the past few weeks had brought peace. Happy with the loose ends now tied.

When Obi-Wan entered through the door with two cups of steaming tea, the uneasiness of guilt and embarrassment found you. He was so good to you, giving you the world and happiness. He didn’t have to know what happened.

“Hi.” You smiled.

“Hello.” Obi-Wan reciprocated, handing you the mug. “Are you alright?”

You hummed. “You?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Yes, I’m perfectly fine.”

“Thank you for saving me.” You leaned your head on his shoulder, your eyes threatening to close from the lack of sleep catching up to you. You felt safe here next to Obi-Wan and for a moment you thought about what Anakin said, pondering for a moment before letting your body fully sink down. “Again.”

“Of course.” He kissed the top of your head, then leaning his cheek on your hair. Letting the quiet envelope the two lovers.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

␛ to masterlist | want more anakin? check out this!

[garagesesh]

Currently writing a behemoth, please stand by

[garagesesh]

planetarium

part 4

pairing(s): luke skywalker x (f!)reader, din djarin x (f!) reader

summary: you hitch a ride

warning(s): none

a/n: okay wow it’s been like two years since i’ve updated this story lmfao better late than never lol oops

␛ to masterlist

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Luke Skywalker woke up early to an empty bed. Hanna city was blanketed with fog and a blue tinge as the sun had just began to rise but hadn't quite peaked over the mountains yet. Stretching his limbs with deep blue eyes still closed, he patted the mattress beside him, searching for the body of his fiancée. His hands found nothing but the cold silken imprint of you body.

That was odd.

He always woke up hours before she did for his meditation and training.

"Y/n?" He called out from his spot, still lying in bed.

There was no response.

Luke peered up at the clock that was built into the wall across from the bed; the white numbers blinked 4:45.

"Honey?" He tried again, but the apartment was completely silent. There was no low hum coming from the fresher and the holonet wasn't on. A bad feeling creeped up inside him as he threw back the covers to investigate where you had gone at this ungodly hour.

As he rose out of bed in a flash, the hair stood all over his body. He only got this feeling when something was wrong. Like the forces way to warn him for the incoming torture that he was about to endure.

Before he was able to pass out of the door into the living room, his deep blue eyes glanced to the long ornate dresser. There was no red blinking glow of the tracker that he had placed there only last night.

Where was the tracking fob?

"Y/n?" He tried again.

Again, no answer.

It was then that he spun on his heel and practically ran to their shared walk-in closet. His breath hitched at the sight of clothes, of all kinds strewn over the floor with empty hangers littering the racks of her side.

He unconsciously reached a hand to the shelf above his side, blindly patting the wood for his now missing duffle bag.

Kriff!

"Y/n?!" This time he wasn't expecting an answer. He knew there would be none.

Luke strode out of the closet and over to her side of the bed. Looking for the DL-18 blaster that she always had strapped to her thigh during their wartime escapades. With an outstretched hand to grasp the handle, a shiny kyber crystal sat upon a tissue stopped him midair.

Hands trembling, he reached out and gently grabbed the ring with his real hand, as his bionic one grasped the tissue with neat handwriting.

Turning the kyber crystal ring in his hand, he read the short but effective note written in Gwyn's handwriting.

‘I need to go. I’m sorry.’

His heart felt like it had been ripped in two as he read the words over and over again, until the message had fully sunk in.

She's gone.

And it felt like entirely his fault.

Balling up the tissue in his hand and grasping the ring in his other, he pulled on his discarded pants from the night before and grabbed the black robe that hung from the door, and flew out of the room and into the apartment.

"HAN!" He screamed as he slammed the door open. "HAN!"

Practically flying down the hallway to his twins apartment, tears began to stream down, staining his flushed cheeks with salty drops.

Luke's bare feet skidded to a halt in front of their apartment. The hand with the crumpled note banged loudly on the maroon and golden front door. "HAN!"

His banging continued on the door, trying desperately to wake the couple up.

After what seemed like forever, the maroon door slid open to reveal Leia in a white silk dressing gown.

"Han isn't here!" Leia yelled back at him in annoyance as she rubbed her chocolate eyes and looked up at her brother. His hair stood in all directions and his once sparkling ocean eyes, were dullen and stained red with waves of tears streaming down his cheeks. Her tone became soft with her brothers distraught appearance, "What happened?"

His hand opened up to reveal the engagement ring sitting in his palm.

"She's gone."

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The seedy cantina was dimly lit with blue neon panels on all of the surrounding walls. The sleek silver bar, encrusted with yellow lights along the perimeter of the circular bar, held dozens of smugglers, bounty hunters, and alcoholics.

You were currently hunched over the bar with a bottle of something you didn't quite know in your hand, with the duffle bag securely between you legs and blaster strapped to your thigh. Your eyes scanned the crowd, looking for someone with at least a trustworthy face, but it was proving to be hard, especially in this place.

"I hear you're looking for passage somewhere." A deep voice spoke next to you.

You came face to face with your brother.

"Han?" You slipped off of the seat.

"Hey kid." Han Solo smirked down at his little sister.

"I-I thought you were on a job!" You poked a finger in his hard chest as you sat back down on the stool, securing the bag back between your legs.

"Yeah, I was." Sighing, he situated himself on the empty stool next to you. "I just got back from Coruscant."

"Where's Chewie?" Looking for their tall and hairy friend.

"Talking to some Twi'lek." He pointed his thumb behind his head towards a secluded table. Chewbacca was leaning back in his chair against the wall, laughing at something a pink female Twi'lek had said.

"Typical." You laughed lightly and took another swig of the bitter alcohol.

"Why are you here?"

"I'm mad." You said truthfully.

"Mad at who?"

"Everyone. Everything."

"So you ran away?"

"So I ran away."

"What about Luke?"

"What about him?"

Han sighed deeply and ran a hand though his hair before he laughed. "You're stubborn, you know that?"

You smiled solemnly as you tipped the bottle towards him and took another sip.

"What's with the tracking fob." Han pointed to the small silver tracking fob that was currently clipped to your belt.

"I don't know," You looked down at it. "it gave me an excuse to leave."

"Where does it take you?"

"Arvala-7."

"Never heard of it."

"Neither had I before yesterday." You laughed reminded of the conversation had with Luke just yesterday. The two siblings sat in silence as you finished the rest of the drink.

Chewbacca, finally done with the pink Twi'lek, made his way over to his old smuggling partner and encircled his long furry arms around you.

"Hey Chewie." You smiled into the warm Wookie, wrapping your own arms around what you could of him. He groaned in response as he ruffled your hair. "So can you two take me?"

"Are you sure?" Han looked down solemnly at you. You only held his gaze, letting him know you were dead serious about your decision. "Alright kid, we will."

"Don't tell the twins."

"Look I'm dumb, but I'm not that dumb." The two siblings laughed.

"And no questions asked."

"No questions asked."

"Where are we going?" Chewbacca groaned.

"Arvala-7." Han answered his co-pilot.

"Never heard of it."

"Neither had I until twenty minutes ago." Han smiled.

"Let's go." You placed the empty bottle on the counter and grabbed the duffle bag, getting up from the stool and began to make for the exit.

"Woah, woah, woah. Slow down." Han reached out and grabbed you shoulder to stop you. "What's the rush?"

"It's now or never Han. What happened to no questions asked?" You didn't even look at him before shaking free of his grip and starting for the exit once again. Han and Chewie looked at each other with puzzled looks before shaking their heads and following you.

Opening up into the empty streets of Hanna City, the orange glow of the sun just began to peek through the tall buildings. You breathed in the crisp morning air as you felt the way the blaster rubbed against your thigh and your hand clamped around the bag, creating callouses on the soft palms; made you feel like yourself again. The freedom ran through your veins for the first time in five years.

"This way, kid." Han and Chewie were standing to your right as they waited for you to follow.

The old trio stepped into hanger seventy-two. A golden circle of light shown down upon the Millennium Falcon, illuminating the piece of junk in a halo. Han smiled to you as he opened the hatch to the ship and climbed on in.

However, confliction rose within. You hadn't even thought about Luke and how it might affect him. You were glued to the floor, feet staying firm at the bottom of the ramp. How would it affect the rest of your friends?

How would it affect Leia?

Ben?

Chewie?

Han?

You weren’t so sure you’d come back at all if you stepped on the ship.

"You coming?" Chewbacca poked his head out as he groaned to you.

Closing your eyes and inhaling the fresh air, you gripped the handles of the bag harder.

I need to go.

Or I'll regret it.

You opened your eyes and descended up the ramp.

No going back now.

The millennium falcon hadn't changed one bit as you entered the old Corellian light freighter. The sheen of the black floor held your reflection as you tread carefully through the winding corridors of the ship.

The old dejarik table was still situated in the corner of the large hold. Walking over, you pressed a finger against the on button, the holo figurines were still in their place from Chewbacca's game from all those years ago.

Powering it off, you walked further down towards your old bunk room. Pressing lightly on the button, the door slid open revealing the small bedroom.

Everything was as you had left it.

The photo of you and Han, younger on Corellia sat on the ledge of the tiny window. Your first blaster, a stolen EE-3 carbine rifle stolen from a Stormtrooper when you were twelve, was still propped up against the dirty off-white wall. The turquoise and white blanket that you had once bought off a trader on Tatooine, laid on top of the small single person bunk.

You dropped your things onto the bed and all but ran out of the room and down to the cockpit, where Chewie and your brother were prepping for the flight.

You situated yourself down in your regular seat from behind the co-captain's chair. Nostalgia washed over you, a warm and normal feeling.

"Ready?" Han and Chewie both turned around to look at you.

You didn't know that the smile on your face could grow any larger than it was, but it had. “Ready.”

Han's hands guided the ship out of the hangar and into the sky. Hanna city grew smaller and smaller as the Millennium Falcon climbed higher and higher in the atmosphere.

Before you knew it, you had flown out of the atmosphere and made it into space.

"Welcome home." Chewie groaned.

You smiled at them, guilty, but real. Han punched the hyperdrive and they were finally off to Arvala-7.

"I'm glad to be home."

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

␛ to masterlist

[garagesesh]

when we are together

pairing(s): obi wan kenobi x (f!) reader

summary: a glimpse in the life of anakin’s best friends three years after mustafar

warning(s): angst lol

a/n: this is kind of a part two to my anakin story. i have been absent apologies i started school again and a part time job :,) plus the holidays was a horror. idk if this is good or not it’s just been on my mind. title is from the 1975. 

␛ to masterlist

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Tatooine

16 ABY

The binoculars clicked as you scanned the barren wastelands of Tatooine. The binary suns already beginning to dip beyond the horizon and the desert chill billowed through your sand colored robes.

Where was he?

You couldn’t help the overwhelming feeling that he had been found.

By him.

By Vader.

Goosebumps spread across your skin, your hair standing at attention in fear. This couldn’t be the end, you wanted to reach for the force, for comfort, for calm.

Three standard years had passed somewhat quietly and without much incident. The child was doing well, growing steadily in the peaceful home just over the mountains.

The anticipation of danger without knowing where Obi-Wan was and the looming threat of him and his Empire had washed any sort of safety.

Through the binoculars, a spot that was moving at rapid pace rose just above the horizon

A speeder, not of your own came across the desolate sand and rock.

Faster and faster it sped towards you. Glimpsing one last time into the binoculars before completely discarding them in your robes, your breathing hitched and your hand reached for the blaster hidden in your belt.

You didn’t raise to aim but you waited with a finger on the trigger. The speeder got louder and closer. Barreling towards you at unprecedented speed.

A figure with a dark hood and a heavy pack was now identifiable. Sighing you slipped the blaster back into the hidden holster, crossing your arms over your chest. Waiting.

“You scared the living stars out of me!” You huffed. “You know that?!” 

Obi-Wan Kenobi didn’t say anything as he powered the speeder down.

“You could’ve commed!” Your hands found your hips. Disappointed and mostly anxious. “Where were you and what is this?”

“Mos Eisley.” Obi-Wan sighed as he gracefully slid off the speeder. He nodded towards the faded-brown speeder. It wasn’t by any means a brand new speeder, it had blaster marks and sand erosion but it was nicer than the old piece of junk you two had salvaged from the Jundland wastes.

“We had a perfectly good one.”

“This one is faster and actually a two seater.” He countered

“We don’t have the credits Obi-Wan!”

“I’ll pick up a second job.”

Always the negotiator.

Huffing you left the older man with the speeder, vanishing into the hut to continue the dinner that was boiling on the stove. Rations again.

Stirring the pot of rice, you lost yourself into the swirls of brown and white. Letting the steam envelope your fear. Only did a warm hand on your waist, trying to squeeze by in the small surroundings pull you out.

“Excuse me.” You hummed as his hand dragged off your waist.

The hut was small, enough space for the two of you but none for a third. The entrance of the home opened to the living room, where in one corner was a makeshift bedroom that was concealed by a blanket you had found. You shared the bed. He had tried for the first cycle on Tatooine to sleep on the small, uncomfortable couch before you finally offered the other side of the bed.

The other corner was a small dining table with two chairs. The kitchen was a step up and had a window into the living space and only one bathroom that was old and needed work.

But it was home.

You ate in silence, feeling guilty of your outburst from earlier.

“I’m sorry for my reaction earlier. I was harsh.”

“It’s alright.” He gracefully spooned the soup into his mouth without another word. Obi-Wan cleared the plates and cleaned the dishes, humming a soft tune.

It wasn’t until you had both showered, hair still damp and covered in the blankets of your shared bed, you finally broke the silence.

“I checked on him while you were gone.” Your finger delicately traced the small constellations of freckles on his warm shoulder. “I wasn’t sure if you had or not.”

Obi-Wan shifted. “Thank you.”

“He’s so big now.”

“Yes, he is.”

“I can feel him in the force.” You could feel the buzz of the young boys force. Powerful and strong. You didn’t have to reach in to feel him.

“He’s very strong.” Obi-Wan shifted once more, his entire body now facing your own. His large, calloused hand reached into your hair, his thumb wiping away tears you hadn’t know had fallen.

“You feel it too?” You whispered.

“Yes.” He smiled bitterly. “I can feel his presence even now. I’m worried about his strength and what would happen if…”

Obi-Wan trailed off, unable to say the name out loud. Afraid to bring forth the man in existence right then and there in your shared bed.

“Vader.” You whispered for him.

He nodded, his hand still entwined.

Silence enveloped you once more. The blue light of the moon shining through the slotted windows and onto your faces.

“I’m scared.” You admitted, holding his gaze. “Lonely.”

He said nothing in return. His deep blue eyes scanned your face.

After three years, you had shared a last name. Paraded as a married couple to neighbors. Held hands through the market. Light touches as he brushed by. Held you sometimes at night.

But nothing more.

Obi-Wan’s hand untangled from your hair and down the slope of your neck. His thumb caressing the contour of your collarbone.

You thought he was going to kiss you. Finally slot his lips onto your own and maybe even take you right then.

But his hand completely withdrew from you, leaving the warm skin now bitter cold.

“Goodnight, y/n.” He turned over, his bare back now facing you.

“Goodnight, Ben.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

␛ to masterlist | can I interest you in pt. 2?

[garagesesh]

hey!! just wanted to say i really loved your eddie roundtree x reader, your writing is amazing and made me feel all the feeling you described! hope you're having a amazing end of december~

That is so sweet of you 🫶 I’m so glad you enjoyed! Happy new year!

[garagesesh]

wintering

③ The Battlefields of Good and Evil, Love and Hate, and Husbands and Wives

gif: aemondtargaryensource ↸

pairing(s): aegon ii targaryen & (f!)reader

summary: fire and desolation, love and hate

warning(s): swearing, blood, descriptions of injuries, death, weapons, war

a/n: !!!this story will not be told in chronological order!!! this story is not written as a reader insert but as an OC on my ao3 if you find that format more enjoyable, it's linked below! please be kind, I'm trying to get back into writing after a long sabbatical. I would love to hear your thoughts. Enjoy!

wrote this in an hour, i was probably possessed.

␛ to masterlist | ⎗ wintering masterlist

go to previous chapter ⎗ | go to next chapter ⎘ (coming soon!)

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔ 　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶ ✦　　

The Stark army waited patiently over the side of the hill, hidden from the rest of the raging battle. Eight hundred archers, six hundred calvary, and four thousand foot soldiers waited patiently for the beacon from Lord Stauton and the Princess, Rhaenys. There were more men biding their time, hidden, then there was fighting on the battlefield.

Dragons danced above the smoke and ash covered battlefield that was hidden from Lord Cregan Stark and his men’s view. Glimpses of red and green scales intertwined with each other, breathing fire from within their stomachs, aiming to kill.

Since dawn, the greens and blacks had been in battle. The fighting had started but a week ago. Ser Criston Cole had mobilized Stokeworth troops after Lord Staunton had refused to bend the knee to the greens. Cole and his men laid siege to the surrounding fields of Rooks Rest, hoping that the elderly lord would surrender.

A raven with the sigil of house Staunton had flown north and east. Cregan and you were already mobilized in Maidenpool, awaiting orders and you had finally received them. Only did you come to find the battle at Rook’s Rest had taken a turn. Princess Rhaenys had joined the clash on top of Meleys. It was at first, a clear black victory. Meleys had obliterated almost half of the greens men, until Aemond and Vhagar had swooped in from out of the smoke with an extra two thousand men.

The Stark army had been given different orders when they arrived. Told to wait and hide from the skirmish to ensure the numbers were stabilized. Rhaenyra Targaryen did not want to be wasteful.

They were now on day three of waiting in the adjacent forest, hidden from aerial view.

Sitting on the horse next to your brother Cregan, working out possible battle strategies if the Stark army were to be called into battle. You had little hope for the Princess and her battalion considering the turn of events with the greens and the length of the battle.

Pouring over maps and strategy meetings fulfilled the seemingly endless days of which you waited.

But this morning felt different.

A horse not belonging to their guards sidled up to Cregan’s. “Lord Stark.”

“Lord Dustin.” He nodded. “Any word from Stauton?”

The older man shook his head. “None.”

Cregan hummed, turning back to the field of ash and smoke. “Anything else?”

“Yes, my Lord.” Lord Roderick Dustin inhaled sharply, a pregnant pause as he looked to the skies then back at them. “A third dragon is flying to join the fray.”

“Is it one of ours?” It was your turn to speak. Vhagar and Meleys had been fighting since the dawn, the larger dragon beginning to gain an advantage over the red queen. Princess Rhaenys was to lose this fight if no help was to show soon. Hoping that it would be Daemon or Jacaerys to support to change the tide of the battle.

“No, my Queen.” Queen. You inhaled, your hands tightening around the reins and your heart fluttering with annoyance at the title. Adamant that you were a Stark to your brother and peers, not a Targaryen, Queen Consort of the Seven Kingdoms.

You were back in furs, blues, and greys, relinquished of the greens, blacks, and golds. Looking down at the embroidered Direwolf upon your glove, “I’m not a Queen, Lord Dustin.”

“Forgive me, my Lady.”

“It’s quite alright.” You bowed your head.

“The dragon is not one of our own.” He swallowed, the lump in his throat proving hard to get down with his nerves in disarray from the news. He adverted his eyes from you. “They’re saying it’s the green King.”

“What?” Aegon? Aegon was coming? You frowned, looking back at the battlefield then to the blackened sky. “That can’t be true.”

“The scouts have said so.” Lord Dustin was no liar, but he wish he was lying then. For the girl still clearly cared about the mummers King.

“Sister.” Cregan turned. His grey eyes full of care as he searched your usual stoic face now riddled with panic. “We need to ready our men.”

The elder lord looked between the two siblings with worry, before asking for the elders attention again. “There is more, my Lord.”

As Lord Dustin continued with his report of the churning waters of war, you went deaf to his words and Cregan's orders, the sounds of the erupting battle beyond the pines had engulfed you. The screams of men dying and the screeches of Meleys and the roars of Vhagar. Steel upon steel, steel upon flesh. Your eyes trained towards the skies, waiting for the glint of gold to peek through. Hoping, praying that the scouts report wouldn’t be so.

Then you heard it.

The black clouds parted, the wisps of smoke fused into swirls and there he was.

Sunfyre, diving into the dance.

Fucking idiot.

Brash, arrogant, moronic.

The golden dragon entered the battle. Vhagar and Sunfyre commanded by the brothers, breathing fire onto the men and snapping their jaws at Meleys.

A hand rested upon yours. Covering the Direwolf on the dorsal side of your own. Cregan tried his best to satiate you, hold you back from what he feared you to do.

You leaned forward in the saddle, hands gripping the reins tighter, feeling the blisters begin to form even with the riding gloves; the steed you rode now in anticipation of cantering towards the ashen fields. The tight, muscles of your back and arms were beginning to spasm as fire spewed from the dragons. Meleys and Sunfyre dove, wings and talons narrowly missing each other.

Dragon fire seized the forest. The trees ablaze in plumes of orange and yellow. Hissing from the release of moisture.

Cregan begged you to ride away from the edge. “Y/n, we’re heading back to camp.”

That’s when Meleys fired at Sunfyre. Flames engulfed the smaller dragon, the red dragon's talons shredding the golden skin upon its wing, sending it spiraling. Down and down from far beyond the borders of the smoke to the battle below.

Aegon.

Without another beat, you set off. The horse gunned down the hill and in the muddy field heading for the emblazoned forest.

“Y/n!”, Cregan went after you but you were a woman possessed.

You charged forward. Gripping the reins, coaxing the horse faster. Into the pines that were now smoldering with fire. Embers stung your face and the heat burned your eyes as you navigated the steed through the burning forest.

Aegon.

You hurdled over fallen trees, stripped bushes, and steaming creeks. You could see the battlefield, the barbaric clash of men in their respective colors. Greens meshed with black. The golden tint of Sunfyre’s wing came into view, peaking just below the tree line-

The ferocity of the wind from the crashing dragon sent trees barreling down in front of you. The horse jumped up in fear, You gripped the reins, wrapping your arms around the animal's neck in fear, but its force was too much. You went backward, into a smoldering pile of embers. Your hair coated in black ash and your face burning from the fire.

The horse ran off into the flames, you would have to do the rest on foot. Hauling your body, heavy with armor off the ground, you grabbed your bow and quiver that flew off your person.

And ran.

You ran under fallen trees, around the bushes that had become bonfires. The smoke clouded your lungs and your vision became foggy. But you were almost there.

Sunfyre hit the ground with a roar. The dragon was alive but was he?

Aegon.

Your throat burned and tasted of ash as you ran and tripped in the mud. Sunfyre had created a cocoon in the center of the bloody field. Dirt piled in a circle, meters high.

You forgot you wore the Direwolf sigil as you cleared the pines and into the fray.

Aegon.

Your mind had been so entrenched in him that the adrenaline pumping through your veins had made you completely blind to the fact that men came after you with swords, daggers, and spears. A green cavalry soldier took out the black soldier with his spear. One of Staunton’s men threw an axe at the head of a green. Back and forth these exchanges went.

The Gods were on your side it seemed.

You slid down in Sunfyre’s crater. Discarding the bow and quiver. Stumbling over rock and dirt. You tripped and cut your knee on a rock protruding from the ground. Clawing your way to him. He was cradled by Sunfyre underneath a shredded wing.

“Sunfyre-“ You breathed and the dragon complied, revealing him.

“Aegon.” You climbed up the injured dragon and towards your husband.

You ripped off the gloves with your teeth. Soot and dirt covered your face, your singed hair out of its braid. The first thing you noticed was the smell.

Burnt barbecued flesh.

Then his face.

His flesh was discolored and charred on the right side, his silver hair had been burned away to his scalp. He had no brow and the skin began to pucker around his indigo eye that held no white eyelashes. His right ear had become blackened and bubbled at the top. The extent of his burns didn’t end there, they went down his neck and to where his doublet should’ve been. His armor was burnt into the skin on his bicep.

“Aegon.” You whispered, clutching at your chest. Tears spilled from your eyes, stinging from the ash and heat. “Aegon, please. Please don’t die, don't die, please don’t do this to me!”

Ser Criston Cole jumped off his horse, but made no move. Watching from the top of the crater as you ripped off pieces of your half burnt cloak, wrapping the scraps around his mangled arm. Your sobs louder than the battle that still raged on.

“Help!” Your guttural scream through your sobs, had wracked Ser Criston’s core. Your body wailed over Aegon’s. Tears splattered on his burns, smoke rising from where they hit. “Help him!”

“Someone get the medic!” Ser Criston barked at the soldier nearest to him. “Save your King!”

You searched your husband’s face for any sign of life, but Aegon laid still with his eyes closed and mouth ajar. “Don’t you dare do this to me you imbecile!”

Ser Criston was confused at how the woman who had run away from the King was now begging for him to live, but he supposed love worked in mysterious ways.

“My Queen.” He kneeled beside you, his gloves hand reaching for your shoulder.

“Is he dead?! Did I lose him?! Did I lose him?!” You wailed, your eyes bloodshot and glassy. “Did I lose him?”

Ser Criston had no answer but pulled you into his chest, your hands clawing at his collar. Your sobs wracked your entire being, over and over you repeatedly asked if he was gone.

Then the Red Queen fell and with her, Princess Rhaenys.

The Green’s calvary chased after the dragon just beyond Rook’s Rest, no doubt to take the prizes of the first victory. Lord Staunton’s men had been captured, unable to traverse where you had run from. No hope for the black army to retreat to the hidden Stark army. Rook’s Rest itself met fire and desolation, turning it into mere ash.

The medics took Aegon away.

“My Queen.” Ser Criston Cole gently raised your head off of his chest. “Come.”

They operated on Aegon all night. He was alive, they told you, but barely. It wasn’t until dawn when you, who had spent the evening pacing back and forth through the rain in front of the medic tent, was allowed inside.

With tepid steps and an uneasy stomach, you approached your husband.

Afraid to wake him.

His entire right side was wrapped in bandages that were once white. His chest rose and fell with a murmur. You wanted to cry at the sight of him.

Careful, as to not wake him, you reached out slowly and gingerly brushed his hair away from the untouched side of his face. “Aegon.”

His hood brow twitched under your fingers, but he did not wake.

Aegon wouldn’t wake for two weeks.

You had been recaptured by the Greens. Placed under house arrest for the remainder of the war. Whenever that would be.

You spent most of your time in the past two weeks pacing. Back and forth for hours. Sleep never came easy or if at all.

There was no news of the war. No news of Aegon.

You no longer had the ever faithful Ser Marbrand to protect you. Two unknown guards were placed in front of your locked doors. The only ones in and out were the guards and the maids.

You wished Helaena then, to comfort you. She was always good at that. Last you heard she was now on Dragonstone, pregnant with another babe.

Then there was your brother.

What were you thinking?

You had finally escaped only a few moons before. Finally reunited with your brother and Northmen. Relinquished from your mummer’s crown. To be free felt so sweet.

But you let that freedom slip through your own hands. Willingly back in the talons of dragon’s.

The chamber door opened. A face other than a guard or maid peeked through for the first time in a fortnight. “My Queen.”

You scoffed. “Ser Criston.”

“I am here to inform you of the King’s status.”

Your mind went to the worst. Aegon is dead. Succumbed.

“He is awake.” Criston Cole cleared his throat. “He’s been asking for you.”

The weight of the war and constant back and forth of pressure from the two sides. Your abandonment, whether it be back to where you first left, didn’t feel in vain anymore.

He was alive.

“May I see him?” You crossed the room. Taking a deep breath, turning away from the Hand.

“You may.”

You spun, now wide eyed. “When?”

“After you meet with the small council.”

“But you are the Hand!” You could feel your anger rise within.

“And you are a prisoner!” He seethed. “You abandoned your crown. Your husband.”

“You broke oathes! Promises!” You countered. “And now mean to slaughter my family!”

“Your family is slaughtering us!” He slammed his hand on the desk. The sound echoing in the dark chamber. “Your brother has eradicated almost half of our men in the Riverlands!”

You had no answer. Standing lifelessly with your arms by your side.

Rhaenyra is the rightful ruler of Westeros. That was undisputable. Cregan had chosen a side, your father had chosen a side, bending the knee to Rhaenyra. Now his son was fighting for the blacks to uphold the promise.

So many promises.

“One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever”

“You are promised to Prince Aegon.”

“I’ll never leave you.”

“We will come for you in the morrow. Prepare your argument, My Queen.”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔ 　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶ ✦　　

␛ to masterlist | ⎗ wintering masterlist

go to previous chapter ⎗ | go to next chapter ⎘ (coming soon!)

⌘ you can find this on my ao3 account!

[garagesesh]

heartbreak hotel

pairing(s): eddie roundtree x reader

summary: both of you were in love with someone else

warning(s): drugs & alcohol, sexual content implied

a/n: alright friends, I wrote this last march when the second episode came out and I was bona fide drunk but here I am posting it almost a year later cause fuck it! why not? anyways, enjoy! did not read this before posting whoops

␛ to masterlist

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔ 　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶ ✦　　

You were watching as Eddie congratulated Camila.

Lighting a cigarette, observing as he perfected the fakest of smiles while looking up at her with eyes that said something different. You couldn't ignore the way his finger tips brushed along Camila's waist, lingering for as long as possible when she pulled away from him after the hug she had pulled him into. Eddie watched as Camila let herself be pulled away into the sea of people by a blonde and brunette you had never met before this evening. He stood there for awhile.

You wondered what was running through his mind. You knew something was up with him and knowing Eddie since the sixth grade you liked to think you knew him and how he worked.

Eddie stood there for a while, watching Camila disappear into the sea of people dancing, before retreating to the table where you were currently parked at.

“Hey.” He spoke first, dropping himself onto the chair next to you.

“Hi.”

"Can I borrow your lighter?" You shoved the smaller golden plated lighter that bore your initials on across the table. "Thanks."

"Are you okay?" "Yeah. Why?"

"C'mon Eddie." You gave him a look that went ignored as he lit the cigarette in between his fingers. “You’ve looked like utter shit since this morning.”

He shrugged and slid your lighter back, finally looking at you and gave a smile that looked more like a grimace. "I've never been better."

“What's going on between you and her?"

"Who?"

"Camila."

“Camila?” He played stupid.

“‘Camila?’ Of course Camila, who else?”

He scoffed. "I'm not in love with Camila."

“I know you have been since Billy brought her to Chucks garage for the first time, Eddie.”

“Yeah and you’ve been in love with Billy since Steppenwolf in ‘68.”

Billy took your first kiss at Steppenwolf, halfway through Born to Be Wild when he turned around and kissed you. You were drunk and he was on something as well, but it was something you could not quite forget even after all this time.

You were in love with him, but made sure to keep it together for the fear of ruining the friendship you cherished with Billy.

You hadn’t known a time that Billy wasn’t in your life and you made damn sure that he would never leave it.

“Yeah.” There was no sense in hiding it. Looking up into the colored Christmas lights that you and Warren spent an hour putting up earlier, reminiscing on the last few years.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He brought the bottle of beer he was holding in his hand to his lips. Falling into a silence, you hummed along to Stumbled on Sublime playing in the distance, trying to find the right thing to say.

“It feels like a funeral, y’know? I should be so damn happy for them, celebrating their life together. A life that they’re just starting together, starting a family and that’s beautiful. A part of me should feels sad that I missed out on that with him, but I feel nothing. I’m empty inside.” You tapped your chest. “And all I want to do is just to feel something. Anything.”

Eddie reached across the table again for the lighter and lit another cigarette, taking a draw and puffing out clouds of smoke as he let the minutes fly by before speaking finally. “I was nine. I remember when we would walk to church together and she would wear these white dresses that would make her look like one of the angels that we would sing about. And now here she is, in a white dress, an angel for someone else.”

“You should put that in a song.”

“Did you have to ruin the moment?”

“It was getting too sappy for me.”

“You asked.”

“Actually, you did.”

“Yeah, but you brought it up.”

“No wonder she picked Billy over you, you’re insufferable.” You kicked his leg hard hard, fed up with his antics.

“That hurt.” He clutched his leg. “Don’t go breaking my heart twice.”

“I didn’t know you knew Camila for that long.”

“Yeah that’s because I didn’t tell anyone.”

“I’m more curious as to why she didn’t tell anyone.”

“Yeah that’s a bit weird isn’t it, since she’s the open book.”

“And you’re definitely not.”

“No,” He took another drag. “I’m not.”

Another moment in silence passed, another cigarette gone from your pack.

“I should probably go home.”

“Nah, you can just stay over.”

"You sure?"

He nodded and stood up, waiting for you to follow him into the small brown home, away from the party.

“I’m scared.” You joked.

“Don’t be.”

“Yeah, sorry that didn’t really reassure me.”

You flopped yourself onto the large bed, that was nestled in the corner of the room beside the large picture window. Spread out, you sank into the plush oversized bed, kicking off your boots leaving yourself only in the thin t-shirt and pair of shorts you had initially worn to just lounge around the house and not for a full fledged wedding. “Thank you for not having a waterbed. I don’t understand how Warren can sleep on that thing.”

Eddie smiled as he reached for the guitar, not the bass, that was at the end of the bed. “Move.”

“The word is please.”

“Please move your ass over on my bed.”

“Charming.” Nevertheless, you rolled over towards the wall, him sitting up against the wall with the guitar in his lap. He began strumming chords from a Led Zepplin song, humming quietly along. Eddie paused to light another parliament.

“You’re really talented, Eddie.”

He scoffed. You knew about the tension between Billy and him. The endless fights about chords and songs, the lyrics and their meanings. The forced switch from guitar to bass. The yearn for creativity that Billy had cut off with his ego.

Eddie was talented, just as much as anyone else in the band, but never believed it.

"Yeah, sure."

“I mean it." He looked up from the strings on the guitar meeting your eyes. He searched your features, like he was looking for the lie, the pity you knew he had subscribed to for his entire musical career and even then.

You weren’t sure what you were doing when you leaned over and kissed him. Maybe it was seeking out comfort or the drugs and alcohol that ran rampant in your system, but he tasted like the cigarette that was still lit in between his fingers and the Budweiser that he had finished not long ago.

He hadn’t reacted at all before you decided to pull back, completely sobering up in the mere seconds that your lips had touched his.

“I um…” You hastily climbed over him, careful not to touch his body in any capacity and your knee catching across the guitar strings, playing harsh chords and nicking your skinand out of his bed whilst practically slamming the half empty bottle on the nightstand. “It’s time for me to go home.”

He calmly put out the half-done cigarette in the ashtray on the stand and stood up without saying a word. Your stomach hurt at the silence, the lack of reaction from him, the tension that was so thick you cut it with a knife. All of it was so calm, so tranquil, but your anxiety was at an all time high.

“Alright. Goodnight.” You turned to leave now standing in the threshold of the open sliding glass door, teetering on the seesaw of regret and embarrassment on the stunt you just pulled. Fuck! You couldn't comprehend the situation you stupidly put yourself in. Despite wearing impractical sky high boots, you were ready to run for it. “See you when I uh see you.”

“You can’t drive like that.” He finally spoke and adrenaline pumped through you, hearing at just how close he was His voice was close, finally broke his silent voNow standing behind you,

"I'll call a cab."

"It's four a.m."

"I'll walk."

"You can just stay here.”

“No, I’m fine. Goodnight, Eddie.”

“Stop it.” His tone turned stern. The fingers that barely ghosted your wrist, tightened and spun your weak body to face his. Your heart beat pounded in your ears, his hand came to rest on your shoulder, trailing up your neck and his thumb wiped away white hot tears that you didn’t realize poured out. “You’re bleeding.”

You didn’t look down to your knee, keeping your eyes on his. “Oh.”

And then he kissed you. This time you didn’t react as his lips pressed into yours, stunned that he wasn’t screaming at you or kicking you out but instead kissing you.

You gave in, wrapping your arms around his neck, dropping both your bodies onto the bed again.

It was the first time you had felt anything since eleven that morning.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔ 　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶ ✦　　

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[garagesesh]

wintering

② looking at the feeling of an empty room

gif: alicenthightowerdaily ↸

pairing(s): aegon ii targaryen & (f!)reader

summary: silence is a weapon and patience is a virtue. or otherwise known as aegon doesn’t know how to express feelings.

warning(s): typical aegon being a lil shit, swearing, blood, sexual content

a/n: !!!this story will not be told in chronological order!!! If you're wondering why you're now in kings landing. this story is not written as a reader insert but as an OC on my ao3 if you find that format more enjoyable, it's linked below! please be kind, I'm trying to get back into writing after a long sabbatical. I would love to hear your thoughts. Enjoy!

␛ to masterlist | ⎗ wintering masterlist

go to previous chapter ⎗ | go to next chapter ⎘

⌘ you can find this on my ao3 account!

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 　

The stables smelled of horse shit. It was overwhelming, nauseating, but dragon shit smells worse.

Hanging the tack in the stall, giving your horse a brush and an apple you had taken from the kitchens, a reward for the hard, long ride along the bay on an unusual damp day in King’s Landing.

With your hair soaked and clothes drenched, you slung off your bow and quiver as you entered back into the Red Keep. Running down the stairs, looking for something to warm you up. The kitchens smelled divine, as you waltz through, serving yourself a bowl of whatever soup they had simmering in the hearth.

"My Lady." The cooks bowed their heads, annoyed by your presence in their bustling galley, preparing meals and displays for lunch and later, dinner for the many that lived within these walls.

After finishing the last drop of what you know now as potato and leek soup, you caught a whiff of yourself. Disgusted by your own stench, it was decidedly time for your bath.

"My Lady." Ser Marbrand, found you on the stairs to your chambers. Giving him the afternoon off from his duties, something you weren't supposed to be doing at all of course but you didn't need him following you while on horseback.

"Ser Marband." You smiled at the bald knight. "Are you well rested?"

"Yes, my Lady." He laughed, his armor clinked together as he descended the stairs just a few steps below you.

"I'm sorry I smell."

"That's quite alright, my Lady." You couldn't hold back your laughter, amused by the knight's honesty and lack of beating around the bush with pleasantries.

The invitation waited for you in your chambers. The sigil of the golden dragon, Aegon’s personal seal, was melted in a mere perfect circle, that you knew his unsteady, uncaring hands could not produce.

The Queen, no doubt.

Tearing the wax off the paper and unraveling the message, you had your answer.

The swirling cursive and vocabulary used was not of his own. His was chicken scratch, like that of an illiterate or drunk.

You couldn’t blame the Queen for trying.

To try and have you at least come to respect each other. Build an understanding between the two of you before you stood in front of the Seven and spoke promises of devotion, of love for the rest of your lives.

That fate was only a few moons away.

If a dinner schemed by the Queen could build some inkling of respect, then you couldn't argue with the prospect, though you had no hope that it would achieve anything.

In the past three years of your tenure at the Red Keep, Aegon and you had done nothing but argue, constantly at each other's throats. Words fired at each other that were meant to kill, only amplified by his seemingly constant inebriation.

Other times you teetered on thoughts of actually killing him and running away back home to the North, where you’d be welcomed a hero by your brothers.

You're sure he's thought of permanently washing his hands of you as well. The Targaryen’s were not above killing their partners, it was well known that Daemon had done exactly that to poor Rhea Royce.

You're reminded of the single time he had brought you on Sunfyre. Another one of Alicent's schemes to get you to bond.

It was no secret within the walls of the Red Keep that the green Queen was not above discipling her own children.

You had before heard Alicent scold Aegon behind closed doors. Whether it be for his excessive drinking, whoring, or about you yourself.

This invitation was most likely a result of a discussion between the mother and son.

Sighing, you folded the paper in half, dropping it on the desk. Frustrated and tired of it.

"Jeyne!" You removed your gloves and unlatched the silver dragon's head belt, draping it across the chair. The black and gold riding coat fell to the floor in a puddle of muddy fabric. It had rained during your ride, cementing mud on all parts of you.

Furs, browns, greys, blues were swapped for blacks, reds, greens, golds. No longer permitted to wear anything of Northern symbolism by the court.

The young maid came into the room, her head bowed, hands clasped in her apron. "Yes, my Lady?"

"Draw me a bath, please." Untwisting the braid in your hair, you smiled at the petite girl. “The lavender soaps tonight, Jeyne.”

You entered the milky steaming tub, dunking your head under the lavender swirls of water. Letting the warmth soothe you before dinner.

You wondered what Aegon had gotten up to this day, genuinely curious if the man had actually gotten up before high noon. Did he stumble in from Silk street early? Or did he ride Sunfyre? You doubt it, not seeing other dragons in the sky other than the behemoth that was Vhagar.

Falling asleep in the tub, you dreamt of home.

It wasn't until the sun had gone down when one of the maids had beckoned you for dinner. Being led to Aegon's solar, you waited alone for him. The minutes ticked by, a half a candle burned before the door leading from his chamber had ricocheted off the adjacent wall, announcing the Prince's arrival.

“Aegon.” You smiled, standing from your seat to curtsy. “Thank you for inviting me to dine with you.”

“I didn’t.” His chair screeched as it dragged across the stone floor. Unceremoniously, dropping himself into it. His head lolled back against the backing, his indigo eyes closing.

“I didn’t think so.” You mumbled, sinking back into the leather seat.

This was going to be a long evening.

“How was your day?” Trying to muster some sort of energy in the room. “I haven’t seen you the majority of this week.”

“I was busy.” Ever so curt.

“Okay.”

He reached for his cup, settling back into his chair and after a pregnant pause, his mouth moved again in a low grumble. “My day was fine.”

“Anything of interest?”

He cleared his throat, sitting upright in his seat. “Nothing really.”

You popped a grape in your mouth, tasting the sweet juice on your tongue. “I’m sure there’s something.”

He reached for the fruit as well. Examining the small plump fruit in between his index and his thumb. “I went to some mummers show."

“Oh?” Maybe you will get somewhere tonight. “Are you interested in music? Theater perhaps?"

“Music." He was surprising you, with his willingness to talk to you with something other than spite and bitterness. "Good music.”

“Like?”

Aegon, however was uncomfortable, he hadn’t been asked these sorts of things before, none by you either. He couldn’t categorize which music he liked versus what he didn’t and he certainly didn’t know how to convey that to you.

So instead he got angry.

“I don’t fucking know.” He sneered.

Here you went again. Repressing the urge to snap back, raise your voice an octave where he had was proving harder than you'd admit. “It was only a question.”

“Well stop with the idiotic interrogations then."

"It wasn't an idiotic question."

"Most of the shit that you spew out of that mouth is idiotic." He swallowed more wine, but he wasn't finished. "I dream of not marrying a barbaric idiot like you!"

"For Gods sake, Aegon!" Jaw clenching, your fingernails pierced the insides of your palm. "I get it! You don't want to marry me and I don't want to marry you either, but we are stuck, Aegon!"

You were absolutely exhausted of this argument.

An argument that was never ending. For the past three years you have done nothing but speak of anything else. You, not wanting to marry him and he not wanting to marry you. Back and forth, a wheel that kept spinning.

"We are two ends to a prophecy that your father believes us able to fulfill. Means to an end for him!"

“You mean a cunt to whelp my children.”

Your mouth opened with equally venomous words dripping on your tongue but instead took a deep breath, choosing to lay down your weapons instead.

You’ve had your fair share of words with each other over the years, but this by far hurt the most. He was cruel, you knew, but you didn’t know that he could be that cowardly.

He could have his whores. His bastards. His crates of wine and liquor. Hell, he could drink, whore, and feast himself to an early grave if he really wanted, you didn’t care.

But you stayed unmoving in your chair, unwavering in your eye contact with him. Challenging him with your silence, bringing a new battle strategy to your battlefield.

Aegon was a statue in his own chair, limbs laying inert. His hand frozen around the stem of his goblet, choking it as he waited for you to bite back with words.

You would not give him the satisfaction this time. This is what you refused the rest of your life to be.

A drunken coward that insulted to make you a fool.

Grabbing your cup, and pouring the rest of the arbor red down your throat in one swallow. Feeling the trickle of the alcohol down into your esophagus, patiently waiting for the buzz to come to your already clouded mind.

“Willa, another.” You held the cup out for the plump maid to fill, this time taking only a sip before turning back to your boar.

Aegon watched you, his frame still bent over in his seat in anticipation, observing your every move. On edge, waiting for you to reach out with your wolf claws and slash him to pieces.

But you continued to eat your meal, savoring the boar and the potatoes. The carrots were excellent, you had determined. Fish, shellfish, pheasant and grouse were laid on the table, making sure to sample each. You finished another cup, ordering a third. Dessert was your favorite, lemon cakes, pudding, fruit. You exclaimed her absolute appreciation for the meal.A fourth cup of wine was poured into the cup, but you made sure to savor this last one.

Admittedly you were slightly drunk.

Aegon had eaten nothing, drank nothing, said nothing.

Just stared through all the courses.

“Thank you for inviting me, Aegon. I hope you’ve enjoyed the same.” She yawned, stretching your sore arms above your head. “I’ve had a long day.”

You took your time rising out of the chair. Taking meticulous care to wipe your stained lips of the red wine. You undid the braid in your hair, smiled at the Prince one last time and then exited through the waiting open door.

With the slam of the door, he glanced away from the empty seat to the floor.

The servants began to clear the table of the now cold food. He reached for the bottle of wine before the servant who was barely of age could take it away. Glowering at the boy who dared looked him in the eyes.

“Get out.” He ordered the servants, their mere presence stoking the fire within him.

They muttered apologies, working rapidly at the mess. Trying to get out of his way. He rolled his eyes, they stung with annoyance, rage. Fires now ablaze in his violet eyes.

How dare you?

How dare you.

His chair wailed across the stone tiles and onto the ground terrifying the servants. Aegon swiped his arm, silverware, platters, fruit clattered to the floor in his anger, his hand cut on a knife. Fire spewed. “I said get out! All of you!”

His hand pounded against the table smearing it with thick crimson liquid that oozed out of his palm in slow heavy drops.

He grabbed the bottle of wine from the floor. Opening it and forwent the cup itself, drinking the entirety of the contents directly into his mouth. The wine, usually a sedative for him, did nothing. It only made him angrier, he was livid heaving over the table in rapid breaths.

“Fuck!”

He threw the empty bottle on the floor. The green glass splintering off into a million little pieces at his feet, glistening in the candlelight like bloody snowflakes. Like the leaves on the Weirwood trees.

The door into his private chambers slammed closed, the wrought iron door handle banging on the wood.

Anger, confusion, foolishness, desire wrapped up his entire being.

His hands tore off his doublet, half hard, and lungs still desperate for air. He felt like he was being choked, fingers clawing at his own neck. Blood, his blood, smearing upon his throat. Half naked and stumbling in the dark, his knee found the bed frame, pain shooting in all directions of his leg.

“Fuck!” Fuck you, you were slowly killing him inside and spending the last three years trying to ignore you, disgust you, rebuff you had felt like it had just come crashing down upon him in some sort of silent retribution for his attempts.

His world became dim and hazy, half-conscious from the alcohol and blood. Suddenly, figures stepped into the moonlight that poured onto his balcony. A white dress, a woman looking out into the bay.

“Prince Aegon?” Ser Arryk, with his sword drawn and panic in his eyes, came upon Aegon half-naked on his bed in a bloody pool. His unattended and forgotten hand was still spewing from the glass and staining his silk sheets with maroon.

“Are you alright?” His voice boomed with worry, “Prince Aegon!”

Aegon’s eyes met Ser Arryks, “Get a Maester, you fuck.”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔ 　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶ ✦　　

␛ to masterlist | ⎗ wintering masterlist

go to previous chapter ⎗ | go to next chapter ⎘

⌘ you can find this on my ao3 account!

✦ looking for more asoiaf stories? check out my begging for rain series! ✦

[garagesesh]

Begging for Rain masterlist

gifs: asongoficeandfiresource ↸ notalicent ↸

summary: Everything he did, he did for her but first he must make an aesthetic out of not doing well.

pairing(s): ser criston cole & rhaenyra targaryen, alicent hightower & ser criston cole, alicent hightower & rhaenyra targaryen

warning(s): sexual content, themes of depression, violence, death

␛ to masterlist

⌘ this can also be found on my ao3 account!

✦ looking for more asoiaf stories? check out my wintering series! ✦

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔ 　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶ ✦　

Chapters ⤸

go to part ① A Bushel of Oranges for Thee ⌦

go to part ② Give My Rage A Babysitter ⌦

[garagesesh]

Give My Rage A Babysitter

gif: notalicent ↸

pairing(s): criston cole & alicent hightower, criston cole & rhaenyra targaryen, alicent hightower & rhaenyra targaryen

warning(s): !!sexual content!!, themes of depression, rough sex, manipulative content

a/n: Why do I keep writing about him…I’m annoyed with myself. booo booo criston cole tomato tomato. i also have no explanation for this one guys.

part two of the Begging for Rain series | go to part one ⌦

␛ to masterlist

⌘ this is also available on my ao3!

✦ looking for more asoiaf stories? check out my wintering series! ✦

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 　

Queen Alicent Hightower was a sad, tragic woman. Doomed by her fathers own ambition, unloved by her own children. Will never be half the wife before her, and unwanted and cast aside by the one she loved most.

Ser Criston Cole was a suffering, lost soul that was eternally mourning in his guilt and betrayal of his brothers, vows, and the one who had slipped from his grasp.

When he was bestowed the honor of Hand of the king, he had felt nothing. Where there should’ve been pride and accomplishment there was a black void that pulled in morose feelings.

Queen Alicent adorned him with the golden hand chain upon his silver chest plate their eyes met. Two pools of sadness diving into each other, intertwining with understanding.

He could feel, see the sadness that radiated off her, like a cloud, an aura of tired melancholy.

She undoubtedly could see the same of him.

The feast was grand with many drinking and eating until they were sick but the queen and he could not take their eyes away.

Both either challenging or afraid of losing sight of one another.

Criston was unsure.

Alicent didn’t dance, didn’t drink, didn’t eat, wanting to stay clear of mind when she whispered in his ear, passing as if a phantom, instructing him to meet in her private chambers once the festivities had vanquished.

Although no longer a true brother of the Kingsguard, his silver armor echoed off the ancient stone walls of the Red Keep. Slowly teaching him that the brotherhood was no longer his duty and that his slow crawl to the queen’s side was just the final nail.

He only knocked once upon the grand, intricate door.

“Ser Criston.”

“My Queen.” He bowed his head. He found that he didn’t know exactly how to think or do with himself in this state of affairs. It was different.

But she took his wrist, pulling him into the chamber, nothing gentle about her touch.

Desperation, hunger.

The fire roared in the hearth. Crackling with rage and wroth with heat. He couldn’t take his eyes off the flames, they beckoned to him, calling out his name with honey.

A fierce reminder that almost made him laugh.

“Undress.” Alicent moved, blocking his view of the honey flames.

It didn’t take long for the queen to let her hair out of its twists and turns, dropping her gown to the floor, her small clothes following close behind.

He had been in this exact position before. His eyes closed and pictured it all too well.

Long ago, where hair was not auburn but of spun silver.

Green was instead yards of red and black.

Wells of brown were fields violet.

He opened his eyes back up to the current world. Alicent, completely bare had opened a bottle of wine, pouring the contents in a cup not bothering to pour one for him.

Criston began with his gloves, untying the leather straps. Then came the belt, disarming himself of his sword and dagger.

It took much longer than he had anticipated to discard the armor from his body. Not like before.

He was wearing no protective covering over his trousers. Those came undone easily.

They were more than naked mirrors now. Alicent finished her cup, pouring another and finishing it in another swallow.

“My-“

“There are no need for words, Ser Criston.” Alicent rested the cup on the table, abandoning it completely as her bare feet made her way to the bed.

She beckoned him to her with her hand.

Now standing in front of the sitting queen, he felt more confident and comfortable when she took his hardening cock within her mouth.

He groaned.

The swirling of her warm, wet tongue on his sensitive untouched skin made his eyes shut. His large hand gripped into the queen’s hair,

Silver slipping through his fingers.

He moaned, “Fuck. I’m going to cum.”

Rhaenyra stopped. Pulling her mouth off of him, shifting further up on the bed.

His eyes opened, seeing not her but the green queen sat upon silk pillows, her cunt spread for him.

Her hands reached down, touching herself. She moaned loudly and bucked her hips up when she touched her clit.

She let two fingers inside herself, fucking herself slowly as she began to moan.

He hastily crawled up the sheets, his body on top of hers. Her hands were no longer inside her but splayed across the expanse of his chest.

He went to kiss her, she turned her head before his lips could.

“Fuck me.”

It was an order.

He didn’t enter her like he had with her. Hard and fast but she was slick and tight. They both moaned.

Her nails clawed and pierced back.

His hand gripped her waist. If he hadn’t bruised her inner thighs with the force of his need, he was certain a bruise in the form of his hand would configure on her pelvis.

His other arm rested alongside her head, fingers deep with her hair.

The queen’s eyes were closed, shut tight as she moaned and writhed underneath him, meeting his harsh thrusts with equal intensity.

Tightness in his cock began to form, pleasure building rapidly for him. Violet eyes opened up at him, a pale hand grabbing onto his neck, pulling him closer against her body.

Rhaenyra, Rhaenyra, Rhaenyra.

His hand moved to grab the back of the Princess’s knee, hiking it up towards her chest, thrusting even deeper.

Her moans got louder, her cunt tightening.

“Don’t stop.” She tried to catch her breath, find her voice in his undulating rhythm, if you could find his needy fucking with any sort of rhythm at all.

She came undone first, riding out her orgasm, but unrelenting in her pace.

“Fuck.” He was going to finish.

Pulling out of her, his cum found her soft stomach. Spilling all over her.

“Next time,” Alicent sat up, combing her fingers through her now tangled hair. “Do it in your hand.”

Criston, exhausted and hazy, fell over in the large bed. Stretching his limbs, situatiating himself on the silk pillows ready for sleep-

“You may go, Ser Criston.” She was back in her night shift, brushing her hair with a silver comb.

“Yes, my queen.”

He dressed, unbothered to put his armor back on.

“Ser Criston?” He stopped at the door. “I will need you to meet me at the same time in the morrow.”

“Yes, my queen.” He bowed his head and slipped out the door.

A Kingsguard stood at attention from his place leaning against the wall.

“Remember your duty, guard.”

He found an orange on his desk, stripping away the peel. Eating only a single slice before finding sleep and her in his dreams.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 　

part two of the Begging for Rain series | go to part one ⌦

␛ to masterlist

✦ looking for more asoiaf stories? check out my wintering series! ✦

[garagesesh]

wintering masterlist

pairing: aegon ii targaryen & (f!)reader

summary: they're two pawns in the prophecy, forced to play the part of ice and fire.

warning(s) & themes : Sexual content, depression, betrothal, angst, enemies to lovers, betrayal, aegon being his usual sunshine self, stark reader

␛ to masterlist

⌘ this can also be found on my ao3!

✦ looking for more asoiaf stories? check out my begging for rain series! ✦

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔ 　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶ ✦　

⎘ Please note that these are non sequential chapters and are published out of order in terms of the plot line

Chapters ⤶

① prelude - 109 AC ⌦

② looking at the feeling of an empty room ⌦

③ the battlefields of of good and evil, love and hate, husbands and wives ⌦

[garagesesh]

intertwining your soul with somebody else

pairings: anakin skywalker & (f!)reader, anakin skywalker & padme amidala

summary: what has started as comfort has now spiraled out of control.

warning(s): sexual content, depression, pregnancy, affair

a/n: i wrote this two years ago and never published it

␛ to masterlist

✦ looking for more star wars stories? check out my planetarium series! ✦

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔ 　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 　

It started years ago.

You were both still young, both on the precipice of the line, teetering between Padawan and Jedi Knights. Naïve and immature and both agreeing that it wasn’t hurting anyone.

It had began as a comfort, a coping mechanism after the loss of your master. Delving deep into the forbidden feelings of sadness, anger, hurt, desire. Finding only release within each other.

A mission on Daiyuu had gone wrong. It was supposed to be easy. In and out, collect the hostage and get out of there, but the force had other plans for you that day. Count Dooku had arrived and everything went to shit.

Devastation had enveloped your entire being, encapsulating you into being unable to move or eat for days. Cooped up inside your dark, messy room after given some time off by the Council. The Jedi weren’t being sympathetic, they were more afraid of you doing something stupid out in the field than actually giving you time to grieve.

So instead you watched.

You watched as life flourished and continued in the metropolis of Coruscant. Peering through the slats of your window from the confines of your mattress wrapped up in the standard issue duvet.

It was cruel, you thought watching as a family laughed in their speeder heading off to home, or a party, or anywhere. It was cruel that the galaxy could keep living, that you could keep living after someone is no longer breathing.

It wasn’t fair.

It had been two weeks before you remembered you were alive.

When he came to you first.

Making sure you were okay and had eaten something. It was what best friends did, right? Come to you in a time of need when you need them the most.

For hours there was silence between the two of you. A blank sheet of nothingness as he held you, as you both now watched the outside. Laying in bed for hours, the tears rolled onto his shoulder as he patiently sat and said nothing.

You weren't sure if you had made the first move.

Was it you laying your hand on his thigh or was it he making you laugh through tears for the first time in weeks?

He was good at that. Making you feel good.

Anakin looked down at you, surprised but not entirely by the gesture. The warm flesh of your hand against the thin fabric seeped through to his skin. You both knew then what was going to happen.

And you let it.

It was slow. Warm. Sweet, sincere, and innocent.

He stormed out of the room after.

You didn’t talk for two standard months before both agreeing that it was a mistake, hormones and sadness playing a part in the clash. Rendering you both not able to think straight.

He wanted to comfort you and it had worked.

A one time thing that would never happen again.

Until it did.

Again and again, until became a nightly occurrence. He would always come to you, never to his room. It’d always be the dead of night when you heard the door slide open, letting in the dim light of the hallway before it closed as fast and quiet as it had opened. He didn’t lead up to it anymore as he had in the early beginnings of the affair. His hand would no longer caress you. No hesitation when he took off your clothes.

It became primal.

Dirty.

Needy.

And most of all, it wasn’t love.

He’d constantly remind you of it. The impossible idea of love with him was something he screwed into your brain for the last three years.

Love was a bad word.

You knew of him and Padmé. It wasn’t so secret as he thought, as those close enough to him all knew about their own affair, but he was always worried you would say something to her. Tell her about your affair. Tell her about the way he would kiss you. Tell her the ways he would make you come undone. The way he had been inside you more times than he had been inside her.

And now the datapad in front of you held the weight of the galaxy in front of you. Eight small words crushed your entire being. Eight small words changed everything.

You were fucked.

“Not tonight.” You shrugged him off in doorway of your cabin on the Republic Cruiser you both were on, heading to Kamino for the oversight of extra troops to both of your legions.

“Why?” Anakin knew something was off, pushing himself into the small room.

“I’m not feeling up to it.” You sat down on the bunk, undoing your shoes, ready to put your swollen feet to rest.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just tired.” You waved him off.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Anakin.” He could never just take no for an answer.

“There’s something wrong. I can feel it."

“I’m fine.”

“You can tell me."

“I said I was fine.”

“Well you’re obviously not fine.”

“I really don’t feel like talking about it.”

“Why not? I’m your best friend.” You laughed at that.

“Best friend?! Anakin, you haven’t been my friend for years!”

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about!"

“You never do!” Standing up from the bunk, you went to confront him in his face. Giving him no leeway.

“I care about you!”

“You have never cared about me!”

“I’ve always cared!”

“No.” Your voice now barely above a whisper.

“No? You’re denying my feelings? Invalidating them?”

“That’s thick! You have invalidated me as a person for years!”

“How?”

“You have used me, my body, for three and a half years! Coming to me almost every night! Telling me it isn’t love, that I am just a device for your pleasure!”

“You enjoyed it too!”

“For a while, yes! But then you came back to me married, Anakin! You continued to go behind your wife’s back. Telling me that it was okay, that she’d never know! It kills me to even look at her because of what I've done to her!”

“What we have is good.” He quieted, his voice choking in his throat.

“What we have is you clinging on to a constant release and me clinging on to you because I’m scared that I’ll lose you completely if I stop letting you fuck me every night!” You headed for the door, trying to escape him before the tears you felt rising could fall.

“What?”

“And congratulations you’re a father.” You thrusted the datapad into his chest, storming out of the small cabin.

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